Midsummer
by Lord Onisyr
Summary: Love and a little madness is in the air during a Midsummer festival in Moonwood as Drizzt and Cattibrie try to rekindle a dying flame, Jarlaxle finds himself in the wrong place at the right time, and Innovindil tries to keep the night interesting
1. Dusk After the Dawn

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

Author's Note: This story is not to be connected at all with "The Lesser Evil:" I am keeping Catti-brie alive and Drizzt relatively "good"…relatively at least. Instead this is both an experiment and a change of pace for me. After writing such a brooding and violent story like my previous one, "Midsummer" will be more in the vein of a bawdy romantic comedy: a genre in which I have really never written, so any constructive feedback is gladly appreciated

"Midsummer" is a story about relationships and personal expression that is rated M for mature themes and sexual references, though it will contain no explicit sex scenes and anyone looking for mindless smut will be very disappointed.

**Chapter 1: Dusk after the Dawn**

A warm breeze blew from the west, fluttering the leaves on every tree and bringing forth the full aroma of fresh pines and grass. Drizzt Do'Urden stopped in his path, closed his eyes, and allowed his keen senses to absorb all of the wonderful smells and sounds that emanated from Moonwood on this magical night. As the warm wind brought forth the scent of pine, it also carried the shrill peeps of young frogs in a distant marsh and the low whistle of wood pipes in a haunting melody played with great skill by passing satyrs. With a long sigh, he opened his eyes again and continued on the barely trodden path, his eyes scanning the trees and observing how they seemed to dance in the electrified air.

It was Midsummer's Eve: the night when the earth itself seemed to celebrate life and the glory of all things lovely. Every stretch of brush down to the individual leaf seemed to pulse with the energy of pure life as the branches parted to reveal a sky filled with stars glowing more radiant on this night. He laughed to himself, noticing how his surroundings seemed to put him in a blissful mood even though so many troubling thoughts plagued his mind.

Drizzt tried to focus on his sense of the surroundings and not remember what brought him here last time. He had walked through this stretch of wood three months earlier beside his good friend Innovindil, a moon elf who had been his trusted companion and dear friend throughout the horrors of the Thousand Orcs War. The war ended and Innovindil accompanied him on another journey that had been a turning point in his tumultuous life: the trip to Golden Cove where they had retrieved the body of Ellifain. Drizzt paused and tried to shake away the image of her corpse; well preserved by the heavy salt in the sea-soaked clay where she was laid to rest, yet her small, once beautiful form was mummified. It was an image that still haunted his dreams.

It was here where his memory failed him. He only remembered the journey back to Moonwood as a haze, though a haze pierced by Innovindil's warm embrace when the heavy sadness became overwhelming. He did register the trees and the concerned looks on the faces of the other moon elves as they walked through, carried Ellifain's shrouded form in a procession and her people took her body, dressed it in a fine, green robe, and put her on a pyre as Nialian Springleaf, an old and venerable priest of Corellon Larethian, stood over her, his silver hair streaming don his face as his head bowed low, said prayers sending her to the afterlife. Drizzt's mind was numb; he recalled almost fainting a few times during the funeral, though Innovindil held him up, her warm embrace pulling him from his blackness.

It was Innovindil's embrace that kept him from completely falling apart. His fragile state was further bolstered by the elves of Moonwood, Ellifain's people, whose faces and words bore no judgment and showed him the utmost sympathy. They all knew Ellifain had sought to kill Drizzt in her own rage of vengeance. They knew Drizzt had fought her in self defense, and they knew Ellifain was killed in battle, while Drizzt himself nearly lost his life in the process; caught at the end of a fire shield charm Ellifain had purchased from a wizard. It was on that horrible day when their warm words and embraces made him feel as if he was another elf in the presence of his grieving kin and not a peaceful monster amongst goodly people. It was only now when Drizzt could ultimately overcome the horror of that day in Golden Cove and all the grief and guilt that plagued his heart; he knew now he was in the presence of friends who saw beyond his skin and accepted him for who he was.

Drizzt shivered and forced his legs to carry him forward towards his destination, a grove but a mile away where the elves of Moonwood held a large fest every Midsummer's Eve; a night of feasting, games, stories, and all kinds of other forms of amusement steeped in the energy of the evening. He was here on a special invitation from the elves, who desired his presence in happiness instead of sorrow.

The evening was meant to be a time of merriment, yet Drizzt, though emerged from the painful memory of his last visit, was still wrapped in melancholy. All over Faerûn, Midsummer's Eve was the ultimate celebration of love where hearts beat stronger, lovers kissed and embraced with more passion, and beauty could be found by even the coldest creature. Drizzt looked to the ground with a pained sigh for on this journey to a festival of love, he traveled alone.

Catti-brie had been invited as well and both of them had awaited this trip for so long. Both of them had just come from their respective journeys apart; as Drizzt and Innovindil retrieved Ellifain's body, Catti-brie joined Wulfgar to find his lost daughter Colson. Colson was ultimately discovered in a temple of Selune in Waterdeep, where a young woman had given the infant to the priestesses. After a month long journey, she was safe and sound. Shortly after Catti-brie and Wulfgar brought Colson back to Mithril Hall, Drizzt returned after escorting Innovindil back to Moonwood, to a passionate welcome from Catti-brie…as well as the not so warm welcome of spot insurgencies by the new Kingdom of Many-Arrows.

Fighting off the orcs and making alliances with neighboring communities were projects that took most of everyone's time and energy, yet the fighting and negotiating was slowing. Bruenor was finally able to plan their voyage to find the lost dwarven citadel known as the Gauntlgrym, using notes and old maps provided their wizard associates the Harpells and the now-cooperative elders of Mirabar. A few days after Midsummer, Drizzt and Catti-brie would join the rest of their companions in this latest adventure. This would probably be the last night of complete peace either of them would have together for a long time and this blissful holiday was the perfect time to spend it.

It was an occasion he had anxiously awaited for the past few months. Drizzt wanted so much to spend such a beautiful, romantic evening with his beloved Catti-brie, where they would mingle amongst friends and later slip into a private, secluded part of the woods, picnic, and then fully savor each other's flesh. Drizzt had left his usual rounds late that afternoon and practically skipped into Mithril Hall. After reaching his room, he threw off his sweaty mithril shirt, bathed, and picked up a more comfortable white linen tunic he had laid out on his bed that morning, while leaving his green traveling cape on the floor. He then smoothed out his long, white hair, and ran a trace amount of sandalwood musk, a joke gift from Catti-brie after a recent trip to Luskan, through his thick mane. With a satisfied sigh, he happened to glance to his plain, oak dresser and saw a folded parchment with his name written outside in Catti-brie's handwriting.

He picked up the note and read:

_Darling,_

_I know we have waited for this night for so long. That is why I feel horrible about having to cancel our plans. Wulfgar found some pockets of spies in the western end of the woods and we need to find them and take them out before any harm is done. I am so sorry about this. I know this is our first Midsummer together, but I swear I will make it up to you. I say tomorrow night we go out and hunt rabbits, then we can properly camp and make up for lost time. Drizzt, I would like you to go ahead anyway and have a good time with your people. I will try to come along later, though I can unfortunately make no promises. Once again, I am so sorry about this. There will always be next Midsummer._

_With all my love,_

_Catti_

That is how matters were left. Drizzt was tempted to not go, yet so many were awaiting his presence on that sacred evening. Ultimately, he swallowed his pride, tried to keep his head high, and walked from Mithril Hall into the growing dusk that turned into what would probably be a lonely night.

I have no reason to be angry, he thought to himself as the sounds of revelry grew louder. Catti needs to root out any potential problems with the orcs. It was just our horrible luck tonight had to be the night. After all, she and Wulfgar are out taking care of business…alone together like they have been on so many occasions.

Drizzt shook his head and tried to chase that lingering thought out of his head. After all, Catti-brie was doing a wonderful job helping Wulfgar take care of Colson now that Delly had passed; leaving him alone with pleading eyes for…

"Damn you, Drizzt," he muttered to himself through clenched teeth.

His mind immediately fell to that wonderful moment when he returned to Mithril Hall after the war. He remembered leaping of Innovindil's pegasus, Sunrise, running to Catti, and sweeping her off her feet in a hail of kisses as he carried her into Mithril Hall, took her into his long abandoned room, and made love to her. Both kissed each other deeply and pressed against each other's bare flesh, fully savoring the one who had been loved and thought lost; both swearing their absolute love between sighs and soft moans mingled with happy sobs. It was the first time Drizzt had ever done this act, but consummating this love that had consumed him for so many years came naturally despite his inexperience and the fact Catti-brie had injured her hip in battle a short time before. In this moment, all was perfect for each of them; blissfully perfect.

Drizzt's mood lifted at this happy recollection. All he needed to remind him of Catti-brie's love was the memory of this wonderful moment, that should have been enough to let him ignore all the time she was spending with her former fiancé, all the missions that drew them apart for days, even the very fact she was not here at all…right?

"Master Drizzt! Master Drizzt!" a little cacophony of voices called from around his legs, breaking him from his troubled reverie.

He looked down to see five small, moon elf children running in a circle around him; all wearing loose robes of various colors, their silver, black, and blond hair tied in braids and bobbing over their small shoulders as all looked up at him with beaming eyes of gold-flecked green and blue.

"_Mae Govannen_, little ones," Drizzt said with a laugh.

"_Mae Govannen_, Master Drizzt!" they all said in unison.

"Are you going to tell us stories tonight?" one silver-haired elf maiden said.

"Stories all around," Drizzt said, patting her small shoulder, "you have my word."

"Can you tell us the one about the giantess' cave?" a black-haired lord said, his green-gold eyes beaming

"How about your fight with the orc king?" another lad with black hair chimed in.

"Now don't be hasty," Drizzt replied in a tone of mock scolding, "I am sure there will be time for whatever I have in mind. Have any of the games started?"

"You're in time for the moon dance," one of the boys said grabbing Drizzt's hand and pulling him forward.

With a laugh, he allowed himself to be led towards a small clearing in the wood; a circular piece of ground covered by a canopy of trees, whose branches bore various round lamps of finely carved quartz that glowed a shade of pale blue. The elves had gathered around in a circle, all in a formation ready to begin the dance. He suddenly found his little greeters had scattered to find their respective parents, leaving him alone and marveling at the beautiful sight of the elves in such a serene environment. Gradually, Drizzt inched closer towards the gathering as the main ring of elves as musicians in the front began the beat of drums, the whistle of the wooden flute, and the soft plucking of a lute.

The elves all began their steps towards the other side of the circle as dancers locked arms with their adjacent partner and circled in a slow, yet graceful fashion. Drizzt inched closer to the crowd, readying himself for a grand entrance into the circle of dancers. Then two couples danced in opposite directions, revealing a beautiful, blonde haired moon elf standing on the side of the grounds and smiling; her deep blue eyes meeting the lavender orbs of her honored guest. Drizzt gave a laugh of glee before slowly walking towards her, his muscles relaxed as he held out his hands, beckoning Innovindil forward.

Innovindil was absolutely radiant in a dress of flowing green silk that was loose, yet would flutter in such a way that would outline her lithe, yet shapely form. She drew closer, holding out her slender hands. In a graceful motion, a hand of polished obsidian gently clasped the hand of glowing moonstone as they exchanged smiles. Drizzt bowed, Innovindil curtseyed, and both began their own, perfectly paced steps. The music floated with the breeze and thee sway of the trees as a blue glow from the quartz lamps created a peaceful aura to this beautiful evening. Drizzt inhaled the aroma of fresh leaves mingled with the sweet hint of rose and lavender oil that seeped from Innovindil's hair and felt completely, blissfully at peace.

It was a moment that seemed to defy all the rules of time and space and was merely a floating state of happiness as he danced in perfect harmony with his radiant partner, unable to pry his eyes away from her glowing, blue orbs and the silken mane of gold that hung over her shoulders. Before he knew what was happening, the music gently slowed and came to a finishing crescendo. All dancers stopped in place and gave bows to their respective partners. Drizzt bowed, feeling his senses returning to that plane of existence as he gave out a gleeful laugh, savoring the moment where everything seemed perfect.

"Where is Mistress Catti-brie?" Innovindil asked softly.

"Fighting orcs," he replied with a grimace. "She should be along later."

"That is good to know," Innovindil replied. "I would hate for you to spend Midsummer's Eve alone."

Drizzt's gaze suddenly turned serious, remembering that she too was alone. Her longtime partner Tarathiel, a moon elf who had been Drizzt's ally on many occasions, was slain in by Obould Many-Arrows in battle. The sound of Innovindil's wails after watching her lover taken from her still rang through his ears.

"You don't need to say anything," she said, Drizzt's sad expression speaking volumes already. "I don't consider myself alone. Tarathiel is in Arvandor, yet I know he always watches over us. We also have his memory to keep us company."

Drizzt smiled and gave her a warm embrace.

"Now come," Innovindil said, breaking the embrace and clasping Drizzt's left arm. "This is a night of merriment, and I am about to take you to a bowl of the finest raspberry punch in all the land."

She pulled his arm like one of the small ones would and dragged him forward. He took one second to regain his footing before skipping along after her.

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"And there I was, in the great hall of ice," Drizzt said in a soft, mysterious tone as he eyed the eight little faces staring up at him with looks of wonder. "I was frozen, having just swum the frozen river, where one of my blades slipped from its scabbard. I looked up, trying to find a good place to build a fire. Only I saw her; the giant queen sitting in her icy throne. She was as big as a mountain."

Drizzt leaned forward on the log and spread his arms wide. The little ones gasped as looks of fearful anticipation washed across their beaming faces.

"Were you scared?" one little maiden squeaked.

"I would be lying to say I felt no fear," Drizzt continued, "yet I kept myself together, as I saw my good friend Guenwhyvar coming around the ledge."

The little ones gave soft cheers.

"I looked the giant queen straight in her eyes and said in my calmest voice, 'I would like a fire and for someone to retrieve my blade from the river.' The giantess laughed and said 'You demand much. What will you give me in return?' I pointed to the panther, who slowly crept within a claw's reach of queen's face, and I said, 'I will allow you to keep your beauty.'"

The small elves let out various gasps.

"What did she do next?" a little elf boy shouted.

"The giant queen gave me a luxurious room for the night, with a huge fireplace and delivered my blade on a tray of the finest roast boar in the land."

The children applauded with chiming laughs as Drizzt rose and gave a grand bow.

"Now, young ones," a female elf called, coming over to the crowd, "who wants to join the ribbon dance?"

The little elves cheered and jumped to their feet, walking in the direction of the maiden, though stopping to bow and thank Drizzt for the story.

"It was indeed an honor," Drizzt replied, watching the beaming faces gradually turn around and run off to their next event.

"You certainly have a way with children," Innovindil called from the side. "Have you and Catti talked about having your own."

"No, I guess both of us are too busy chasing after so many other scampering creatures," he replied turning towards his host.

"Still taking that herb mixture you were telling me about," she asked softly.

"Until we are ready," he replied with a small laugh.

"Now tell me again about those mushrooms you found. I'm rather curious."

"It was a secret among the males at the academy in Menzoberranzan, a simple mixture of medicinal fungus that let us not give the priestesses any little presents with out faces."

"I'm sure they were unaware of this mixture."

"Well, they certainly feigned ignorance. I was glad I could find these same mushrooms in the lower levels of Mithril Hall. I figure if Catti is already taking measures, it was only fair that I do the same."

"You will have to share that concoction with Nialian sometime. He is a connoisseur of various herbal remedies. I am sure he would be interested to get a little insight on some dark elf concoctions that do not involve poison."

"I will definitely remember that. I find these days I have become comfortable with the little aspects of my kin that have the capacity for goodness."

"Speaking of which, do you still talk to that scoundrel you told me about? I forgot his name, but doesn't he have an affinity for plumed hats?"

"Oh, Jarlaxle," Drizzt said with a laugh. "No, we haven't talked in years. Sometimes I do wonder what that old bastard is up to."

"Ah, has Drizzt Do'Urden finally found a friend among his kin?"

"I guess you could say that. He is no paladin by any stretch of the imagination, yet he is definitely honorable. So, yes, I guess I have found a friend among my kin."

"You rediscover dark elf remedies with a capacity for doing good and you have made an ally out of another of your kin. I can only think that you have finally become comfortable in your own skin."

"I guess I do know what it is to be an elf now," Drizzt said, a bright smile forming on his ebony face, "thanks to you."

"The only thing I did was push you in the right direction," Innovindil replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "You did the rest."

Drizzt gave a little chuckle in spite of himself. Maybe he had come that far.

"Now, what is this rather nasty rumor I'm hearing that The Ever Watchful Queen has fallen?" he asked.

"Oh yes, it is indeed a tragedy," Innovindil replied. "The tree games aren't for another few hours, so I say we go out and pay our respects."

Drizzt locked his right arm around Innovindil's left and motioned for her to lead him forward.

The two walked away from the festivities and further into the woods down a path carpeted in brush and branches that had once been tread over much at one point in history, yet was now virtually abandoned. The two pushed away low hanging branches as their path further twisted into the forest, both good friends talking about the weather and the various events of the past few months.

After half an hour's travel, the two elves reached a partial clearing below a series of granite cliffs carved into the earth by the passage of time. Drizzt then focused on a spot in the cliffs surrounded by trees and vines that cascaded down on both sides of an outcropping of rock and let out a groan. His memory recalled a formation in the rock that resembled the smooth, angled face of a stern elven woman that had formed by the passage of time on the stones, the cascading trees around her face resembled flowing hair that changed with the seasons. All that was left now was a gouge in the rock where the stern face had crumbled and was now lying in many shattered pieces at the base of the cliff.

"When did this happen?" Drizzt asked, prying his eyes away from the disturbing gouge.

"Just three days ago," Innovindil said. "Some druid friends of ours heard the tumble of boulders from their campsite and passed the news to us. It is indeed sad; she watched over this land for thousands of years. I guess we never thought we would see her fall in our lifetime."

"Not all beauty stands for long," Drizzt said with a sigh. "Time can be the cruelest thing for all of us."

"It can also be the greatest thing we can ever know," she replied. "It was time that created this face in the rock, and time allowed the earth to reclaim her. Time makes us grow, though time ultimately takes us in the end."

"Yet time also delivers us to so many amazing places we do not know of in the present."

"Very good. You have come far."

Drizzt smiled and looked at his companion, who was right beside him, her hand still resting on his arm. He looked into her eyes and noticed how the high waxing moon reflected the gold speckles in those pools of blue. Lost in his moment of contemplation, he wrapped his arm around Innovindil's slender shoulders. The moon elf's muscles relaxed and she leaned in against the drow's body. Drizzt lay his head against hers, inhaling the aroma of rose and lavender oil as Innovindil leaned closer and savored the sandalwood musk that exuded from his soft white hair.

Innovindil raised a hand and slowly ran her fingers through the strands of his thick mane. Gradually, his hand found its way to her hair and savored its softness. His fingers simply savored the beauty that exuded from every golden strand first, then every inch of soft skin along her pointed ears and then her beautiful, angled face, then her full lips. Without a coherent thought, he leaned forward and gently placed his lips on hers. Innovindil stood still for a second to savor the kiss, before leaning in further and allowing her lips to explore his as her tongue gently traveled past. His mouth slightly opened, allowing her to explore every warm ounce of flesh. He gently caressed her neck as she held him closer, her hands running down his back and coming under his tunic, feeling the skin underneath.

Drizzt let out a soft sigh as his hands caressed her shoulders and gradually traveled to the buttons of her dress, which he fiddled with for a second before undoing them. He did stop for a moment at Innovindil grabbed the bottom of his tunic and pulled it over his head, tossing it gently to the ground before fully wrapping her arms around his body, running her lips down his neck. Drizzt threw his head back and closed his eyes, savoring this divine moment as his own hands continued to undo her buttons. Soon, he gently clasped the panels of her dress pulled the garment open, looking down at her bare form in all its beautiful glory.

Her muscles bore the tone of a warrior and were perfectly contrasted by the softness of her small breasts. She opened her arms and allowed the dress to fully slip off before pressing her bare form against his tightly muscled body. Drizzt's mind went blank, though he knew he was kissing her deeply, his hands exploring every inch of her body. He gradually guided her onto her knees, then on her back, lying on the soft grass as he lay beside her and allowed her slender fingers to reach for the strings on his trousers.

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It was already past midnight as Catti-brie steered her gray mare, Nightfall, through the woods. Hopefully, the Midsummer events in Moonwood were still in full swing. Hopefully, Drizzt was not too mad at her sudden cancellation and subsequent late arrival. Her legs carried her through the brush as she ran further and further into Moonwood.

Five hours earlier she and Wulfgar had slain four orc spies who had become dangerously close to Mithril Hall. Soon after her task was done and immediately after reporting on their finds to Bruenor, Catti-brie hastily changed out of her blood soaked leather armor and put on a fresh pair of leather trousers and a loose green tunic edged with black embroidery she had saved specifically for this event. She only gave herself time to clean the orc blood off her skin and rub some rose water through her hair before charging out towards Moonwood. Hopefully, this night could be salvaged.

Catti-brie entered Moonwood at an angle that completely avoided the main roads, yet still followed along the general area Drizzt had mapped out for her months before when she first received the invitation. She knew the woods were relatively free of creatures too dangerous for her to handle due to the efforts of elven patrols and some magic repellents, so she felt comfortable along this path. She also wanted to come through in such a direction where she could surprise Drizzt, who probably spent the night in his usual melancholy, though Catti-brie did hope he found some good games and conversation.

She raced through the forest, her auburn hair flopping in her face as she guided her steed to a slow gallop. She took another brambled path and new she was moving in the right direction. The path broke on a series of rocky hills overlooking a small clearing below. By the description of the cascading trees down the cliff face, she knew this was the location of the famous geographical landmark known as The Ever Watchful Queen, the rock formation actually shaped like the face of an elven woman. .

Catti-brie dismounted her Nightfall, tied her to a tree, and walked further out on the rocky hill to get a better view of this wondrous formation. All she saw was the gouged cliff-face where smooth rock used to be. This was definitely the site, and the site had definitely fallen and taken the appearance of a face lined in green hair that was now completely blank; an image which she found disturbing. Catti-brie sighed; this stop was a disappointment, yet it allowed her to pause and allowed from her tiring journey.

She walked a little ways further until she was on a small cliff overlooking the clearing. Her eyes scanned the expanse of trees and plants, until another sight caught her eye; a flash of white among the green brush. Walking more to the side where the trees were not blocking her view, Catti-brie looked on the cleared, grassy ground and saw the nude figure of a blonde, female moon elf. Tangled in her limbs was the form of a male drow. After a more careful look, she eventually saw their faces, leaned forward, and clasped her knees against the rushing wave through her head.

Catti-brie gently guided herself to sit on a nearby boulder, unable to pry her eyes off the sight of Drizzt, her beloved, her soul mate, her dearest friend, locked in the arms of another woman, let alone a woman she had come to call a friend. Catti-brie wanted to run down and kick him hard, cursing him out and making him realize how he had betrayed her. Instead she sat still, feeling her muscles tremble and a pressure rise in her temples as she watched Drizzt and Innovindil rolling in the grass in the throes of passion.

She didn't know why she was so caught in the moment of this travesty. She only stared at the two lithe, elven forms wrapped together, Innovindil's skin of silvery white and Drizzt's skin of gleaming ebony making the most striking contrast against the bright green grass. Their faces bore the looks of pure bliss; their hair was wild and tangled with blades of grass and a few tiny twigs as their flesh glistened with perspiration. It was a horrible sight that Catti-brie found purely mesmerizing. At last she heard loud sighs and the two separated into two separate heaps on the ground.

Drizzt propped himself on his elbows and focused on the woods to clear his vision slightly, his numb mind beginning to register what had happened. He looked down at Innovindil and gave one last sigh, though this was a sigh of frustration as the full reality set in: he had mad love with another woman, betraying Catti-brie in every way. He had allowed himself to be ruled by his passions without thinking of the consequences, an act which violated some of his deepest principles. In the process he had betrayed his love and likely lost the woman who had become such a good friend to him, their friendship forever changed in this moment of reckless abandon. He sat up as his stomach churned with this realization. Drizzt's gaze then turned upwards, where he saw a mass of auburn hair amid the trees.

He jumped to his feet in one motion, clumsily picking his trousers from the brush and practically tripping to put them on. All the while, he got a better look at the form peering at them through the trees. It was indeed Catti-brie, dressed in the green tunic she said she would wear to the Midsummer festival. He felt the heat rise behind his eyes as his lavender orbs locked with hers, which were surrounded by veins growing redder by the second. Her fists were clenched and her face bore a look of calm, yet burning rage. He barely noticed when Innovindil rose and stood beside him, hastily putting on her dress as her own muscles trembled. Catti-brie just stared at him alone with a look of purest hatred.

"I am so, so sorry," he managed to say, his trembling lips forming the words so they could be easily read at a distance.

Catti-brie could not hear his cracking voice, but she read the words clearly along with the pleading, sad expression in his bright, lavender eyes. She saw his trembling form and even registered Innovindil holding her face in one hand as tears came down her eyes. Catti-brie's gaze, however, never left Drizzt. She wanted to say so many things; instead she whispered only two words Drizzt would read clearly:

"You bastard."

She then turned on her heel and rushed back to her mare, which she untied, hastily mounted, and charged out of the woods, the adrenaline fueling her body as she fled that wretched site in a haze.

After an hour's travel, she reached Mithril Hall, went into her own room, and smacked her bed hard with a long pine walking stick she had picked up from outside the Hall just yesterday. Then she threw the stick against the stone wall, the sturdy wood cracking it into several pieces, before collapsing on the bed in a wave of sobs.

Drizzt would later enter the room, profoundly apologizing through his own tears. She would scream at him, calling him every horrible name in every language she knew. Then they would separate, and then meet later the next day to talk in calmer tones that would become silent.

Eventually the emotion began to wear off in time for them to travel with their companions to find the Gauntlgrym, all the other Companions of the Hall oblivious to the drama. Eventually she said she forgave him, though her heart would tell her differently.

Regardless, the damage was done and nothing would be the same.

Author's Note: This is just the beginning.

The Ever Watchful Queen is directly based off The Old Man of the Mountain, which was a naturally occurring rock formation in Franconia Notch State Park in New Hampshire that was the shape of a human face. Sadly The Old Man fell to erosion in May of 2003.


	2. Another Sunset

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

Author's Note: From here on, I am writing Catti-brie without much of her dwarven accent; going on the assumption that she started to lose it near the end of _The Two Swords_, though she does get it back occasionally. You have been warned.

**Chapter 2: Another Sunset**

Three flat stones landed on the green leather mat with a dull slap as the others tumbled in the grass along sides. The round, smoothed out pieces of quartz were painted in varying shades of red, blue, green, and white with a few in silver. Nialian Springleaf allowed himself to gaze at the stones, attuning with their energies before reading the symbols delicately painted in black. He turned his green-gold eyes up at the sky to see the sun had almost fully set as a large, full moon now dominated the horizon. He then closed his eyes and let his old body feel the energies of the earth. It was Midsummer's Eve, a time of magic in itself. It was also the night of the full moon, which tended to raise the energies of everyone. This combined with the natural vibrations of the holiday had the potential to cause great merriment, or great catastrophe.

The elderly cleric looked down at the stones, a divination tool popularly used by barbarian priests he had adapted for his own use, to try to get an idea of what held in store for this Midsummer. Every stone was painted in the color corresponding with the elemental power it represented: green for earth, white for air, red for fire, blue for water, and silver for spirit; what many clerics and mystics considered the fifth element. On one side of each stone was a symbol for the varying emotions and actions attached to each element to give a more accurate reading. The stones that landed on the short, rectangular mat were the major issues of that night, while the ten stones that fell to the side reflected more minor issues. In the five hundred years Nialian had been using these stones, they were rarely wrong.

Nialian rested his angled chin in his small hand, tapping the side of his face as he read the main stones on the mat: two were red while the last was blue. It would be a night of passions, but blue indicated the flow of water, another great bringer of chaos in the form of change. He traced the line with his other finger and nodded his head in conclusion.

"Expect the evening's song to be a discordant wail of the sweetest harmony," he said to himself.

It was a meaning that might be considered completely nonsensical, yet to Nialian, himself a creature of chaos, it made perfect sense. The night would not be plagued by danger. Instead all its passions would be the stuff of chaos, yet in the most benevolent way. It would be a terrible night for anyone expecting any kind of order or predictability in any way. Yet to the ones who enjoyed everything that went against that order, it was the perfect night. Hearts would be bursting with love, yet the minds would be less filled with reason. All in all, it would be an ideal Midsummer's Eve.

Satisfied by this reading, Nialian's eyes then turned to the various stones that had fallen to the side, all signifying the individual interactions and relationships that would be affected tonight. The particular position of five of the stones especially drew his attention, for four were lined perfectly together, forming their own circle, all representing the four main elements, while one silver stone touched the outside of the circle. It was rare that the stones would form a perfect formation such as this, signifying a major development among what looked to be four different people, while another would be close on the side; part of the interaction yet at a distance. Nialian also knew that a silver stone positioned in such a way most likely signified a cleric, most likely himself.

Nialian smiled and gently picked the stones off the ground, placing them back in their black, velvet pouch as he quietly gave a prayer to Corellan Larathien for a peaceful and happy evening.

And it appeared as though much was in store already.

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The low moan of a distant wooden flute rang through the trees as if it was carried along by the soft breeze that caressed the oaks, birches, and evergreens and carried the scent of fresh forest steeped in night air. A hazy cloud covered the purple sky of the dying minutes of twilight, until the bright, silver rays penetrated the haze and the large, full moon shown clearly through. The silver light cast a rising glow over the canopy of Moonwood, revealing the forest in its full glory.

Innovindil leaned further against the trunk of the high fir under which she had taken a seat. She stretched her legs out on the grassy hill that was high enough to overlook much of the forest. Her blue-gold eyes eventually fell on the bright moon, which became her focal point above all else; a point of simplicity where she could find a focus for settling her various troubling thoughts.

It seemed like only yesterday that she sat on this exact hill. Her lover Tarathiel was lying on the soft ground; his long, black hair cascading across Innovindil's lap as her slender, white fingers ran through every soft strand. She remembered he was in a long, flowing tunic of white linen that partially open to reveal a portion of his chest, that Innovindil would caress with her free hand. She could still feel his soft skin and hear him give a small chuckle in protest as she purposefully reached his ticklish spot.

Innovindil shuttered, and then turned her attention back to the moon lest her recollection also bring her to that horrible evening when Tarathiel was taken from her. She still saw that moment in her dreams, though her Reverie had become slightly calmer over the past few moons. She found a way to turn her dreams away from the image of Tarathiel's body falling into pieces at the end of Obould Many-Arrows' flaming sword. Whenever the image came, she would immediately focus on the soft, white hair that fell on her face and the ebony hands that wrapped around her shoulders as she screamed for her lover. Innovindil would only focus on the warm feeling of Drizzt Do'Urden's arms around her trembling body, the warmest touch she had ever received in those cold times.

It was Drizzt who had kept her sane during that horrible period, Drizzt who became her friend and companion throughout The Thousand Orcs War and on many other occasions over the past few years. Their relationship did go deeper, maybe too deep. After all, it was the war that ultimately brought him together with his true love Catti-brie. They were happy, the couple always meant to be together.

Yet last Midsummer, she and Drizzt were caught in a moment of passion and made love to each other under the stars. When their passion was spent and their bodies separated, both saw Catti-brie glaring at both of them with sad eyes. They had betrayed her, and she had seen the entire moment. Innovindil felt guilt for violating a friend's trust; for savoring a body that was bound by honor to another. Yet she never regretted her moment of passion with Drizzt, for it was the most beautiful thing that had happened since those dark times. She closed her eyes and still recalled the feel of his body wrapping the flesh inside and outside of her lonely form in gentle warmth, letting her know she was not alone and should not live in the cold. It was the consummation of a pure emotion that both had held back for too long.

Did she love Drizzt? As a friend and companion maybe, though she did not feel any devotion of body and spirit to him at all. Maybe she had used his body for her own pleasure, yet Innovindil knew it was a pleasure shared. She remembered well the sound of his sighs and the pulse of his skin with its furthered passion, knowing full well that this had been a moment of ecstasy for him as well

These emotions lingered with her for the past year, which she spent traveling all over Faerûn and experiencing every new thing that she had not thought possible before. The time traveling on her pegasus Sunrise also gave her an opportunity to sort through her emotions alone. She would return to Moonwood occasionally, though only for a few days before going off on another adventure. She had returned home from Lantan three days ago after spending the past month helping the gnomes repair an old temple of Garl Glittergold that had been damaged in a storm.

When she returned to Moonwood for the Midsummer festivities, she was given a letter that had come the day before. The handwriting outside was completely familiar; the flowing yet slightly scratchy script of an elven hand that had been formed under harsh conditions. She took the letter into her tent and ripped it open, finally reading what Drizzt Do'Urden had in his heart since that night. It read:

_Dearest Innovindil,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I apologize for not writing sooner, especially how I merely dashed off with barely a word last Midsummer. There was no excuse for how I treated you after our moment, so my sincerest apologies._

_Catti-brie and I are still together, yet our relationship has become more strained with the passing of time. We were allowed a blissful, yet grim distraction in the form of our voyage to find the Gauntlgrym (an adventure better told in volumes than in one little letter, so I will save the details for next time we meet), which gave us a focus and a reason to work together during the more harrowing moments and find our peace in each other's arms in quieter times. When we returned to Mithril Hall six months later, our distractions were gone and the full weight of our situation came upon us. She tells me she forgives me for last Midsummer, yet it is still a weight she bears: a weight likely released with our relationship._

_The past year has been filled with varying degrees of silence mixed with the occasional snapping of tempers and the even rarer moment of passion. The thought of losing Catti-brie once gnawed at my soul, now the idea no longer bothers me. I cannot help but think now that maybe I felt strong affections for Cattie-brie, yet my own concept of love is so distorted. I never allowed myself to recognize my emotions before the war, living as a cold and closed creature so wrapped in his own mission. That all changed during those awful moments of the war, yet further helped by your kind words and firm advice. These lead me to sweep Catti-brie up in my arms for the first time, though maybe this was more me finding my own heart than uniting my heart with Catti-brie; an old, dear friend who became my first love. I cannot help but feel that maybe though her, I have found my heart; though maybe it has grown apart from hers now that I recognize its existence in the first place. Maybe I need to sort out my emotions and find myself before declaring my love to another. I have been so tangled in my own ideals that I never allowed myself to live. Now I have that opportunity and time and chance have taught me that I should not squander it._

_With that said, I will tell you now that I do not regret what happened between us that night. It was a natural expression of passion that I had so long denied myself. You have helped me find myself, and last Midsummer was a perfect part of that. I give you many thanks for sharing your body that night, for you soothed mine in every way. I have always thought that physical passion should be a reflection of one's emotions, and it was for us in so many ways._

_Another Midsummer is drawing nigh and it is only right that I inform you that I am coming to Moonwood with Catti-brie by my side. She insists on this trip, saying she wants this to be a night where we rekindle our dying romance. Yet there is a more vocal part of me that knows she either means to test me, or maybe she wants us to have one last chance together before she releases me. Perhaps it is a mixture of all. Regardless I welcome it all. Whatever comes to pass this evening, it will be for the best. So I shall come to Moonwood this evening with open arms and an open heart, ready to see you at last._

_With all my affections,_

_Drizzt Do'Urden_

Innovindil sat straight, the words of the letter ringing through her mind. She smiled and relaxed her body; concentrating fully on the moon and feeling its rays permeate her being. Her eyes closed and she opened her spirit up to the silvery rays, feeling a surge of power gradually spreading through her lithe form. It was a meditation common among elven women and many said it was as if the maiden was taking the moon into herself. After a few minutes, she slowly opened her eyes and came to her feet in one perfect motion, feeling the moon energy pulsed through her being.

Innovindil then smoothed out the folds of her long tunic of blue silk with a smile, before walking back towards the village to fully greet this festive night.

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"Oh, Petey," Maggie said in a scolding tone that carried an amused laugh, "please don't play with the elf's ear. You know he doesn't like that."

Despite the reprimand, Jarlaxle still felt the stubby, furry finger whose previous locations he did not even want to think on, still poking the tip of his long, pointed left ear; leaving him with a cramping chill down his neck every time this little…creature touched this rather sensitive area.

"But, momsy, it'sa so pointy," the small bugbear replied, giving Jarlaxle's ear one last poke. "I never seed dat afore."

Jarlaxle casually raised a hand and gently brushed the child bugbear's finger away. Petey seemed to get the message, yet he still exposed his fangs and twisted his ugly, furry face in an amused grin while giving a stupid laugh. Jarlaxle crossed his arms and leaned back in the rickety wooden chair while watching the slumped, elderly human woman in a baggy, gingham dress set wooden bowls on the equally unstable wooden table, her other two "sons" leaning over and watching her with love in their yellow eyes. His attention turned back to his companion, who was reclined in what was an easy chair by basic definition only, paying more attention to putting a whetstone over his dagger, though his black eyes would occasionally go up to the happy family as he passed the stone over with a longer, more pronounced swipe.

This little moment had been carried out for the past four hours. Jarlaxle was usually a good sport about such circumstances, but even this was beginning to wear on his nerves more than a little. Just five hours earlier, he and Artemis Entreri had been scouring the edge of The King's Forest on a mission for their most frequent employers Tazmikella and Ilnezhara; two sisters who were mysterious, intelligent, and beautiful…copper dragons, who frequently recruited them to add to their respective hordes. A tenday ago, Tazmikella gave the pair a scrap of parchment that appeared to be a map leading to a treasure buried by the elves on the outskirts of Cormyr before the Retreat.

"Rumor has it the site has been long abandoned, so you won't need to worry about your…kindred," Tazmikella said, her gaze focusing on Jarlaxle. "You will need to watch for orc patrols, yet they are sparse. I will also warn you that spot may also have contained some workings of Elven High Magic that may have affected the Weave around the area. Most of the effects have probably dissipated by now, but you have been warned."

A teleportation later, the two mercenaries were in Cormyr on their latest mission. The next day was Midsummer; a Midsummer of torrential downpours welcoming them into the woods, though a bit closer to their destination. That was until they walked down a long, sloping hill whose rocks and sand decided to give way and slide down into the valley. Jarlaxle easily jumped and avoided most of the barrage. Entreri was usually possessed of the same grace, until one rogue stone founds its way under his foot in the right way and sent him tumbling down the hill landing wrong on his right ankle. A crack of bone and a few howled obscenities later, the two were stuck in their location.

Jarlaxle managed to get Entreri to stop cursing and sit still long enough so he could snap the bone back into place and produce his healing orb…only to have the orb simply act as a heavy weight while its lack of powers along with Jarlaxle's perpetual uneasy feeling about the whole area suddenly make sense: they were in a dead magic zone. In orc infested woods. In the pouring rain.

Their salvation came in form of their current host; a tiny, slumped figure in a bright yellow cloak out gathering wet branches for some purpose. She saw the two men and immediately came to their aid despite the fact one of them was a drow and the other was an injured, irate human with two rather deadly-looking weapons. The kindly, ancient lady, who said her name was Maggie, helped Entreri off the ground and her and the assassin's companion led him a few feet further into the woods to a rickety shack that looked to consist of a million spindly twigs that had been positioned in the perfect way so they wouldn't fall on each other, at least not now.

"My boys and I never have company," she said as they drew closer. "This should be delightful."

Only a minute later, her three "boys" came scampering out the sagging door flap of the cabin: three small, mangy bugbears, who appeared perfectly willing to accommodate the stranded travelers. Maggie later told them she had found these three brothers when they were just toddlers orphaned when a tribe tore itself apart. She took them in and raised them as her own sons and the relationship seemed to prosper. Drewby now helped "momsy" clean the dusty floor with a broom that left more of itself behind with every pile of dust it swept up, as Niky came through the door bearing a small, iron pot steaming with…something. Petey, the littlest, finally left Jarlaxle's ear alone long enough to scratch his own backside with too much effort for the drow's present comfort.

The mercenaries agreed to stay in the cabin until the rain let up, which had been a span of five hours of family bliss. Jarlaxle kept his gaze on the flap of the cabin, which had likely been a fine quilt a century ago and was now sagging from the top enough to give a clear view of the goings on outside. It appeared as though the rain had let up a little and was now a heavy shower as opposed to a river being dumped from the sky. He took one last look at Maggie, who spooned out the brownish concoction from kettle that smelled like boiled mutton and wet leaves, then at Entreri, who added another dab of oil to his dagger from a tiny bottle he kept with him at all times.

Jarlaxle put all four legs of the chair on the floor and swept up to his feet, walking over to his companion, whose injured leg was wrapped in a surprisingly clean green blanket and propped up on a wooden stool.

"It appears the rain has held off for now at least," he said to Entreri in drow. "I am going to venture out and see how far out this dead magic zone goes. Will you be fine here alone for a while?"

Entreri looked at Maggie and passed the whetstone over the dagger with a louder, more pronounced swipe, which gave a shrill ring.

"I think I'll be fine for now," Entreri said calmly.

"Just try not to kill anyone," Jarlaxle replied. "I find this little clan rather charming."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Entreri asked with a tired glare.

Jarlaxle smiled and gave his companion a nod before walking towards the door.

"Mistress Maggie, it is with great regrets that I must leave before this grand feast," he said. "But I must find the nearest border where magic is still active."

"Oh, Master Jarlaxle," she replied with concern, "That could be for miles."

"For the sake of my injured companion, I am willing to travel that distance."

With a grand sweep of his wide-brimmed, plumed hat, he turned around and walked through the flap. He did take a last look at his companion, who had since sheathed the dagger and drew his fine sword, Charon's Claw, while flashing a last smirk to his partner. Jarlaxle allowed himself a small chuckle as he walked from the cabin and into the woods, knowing that, even with a broken ankle and no magical enchantments on his weapons, Entreri was perfectly fine in this company; physically at least.

Jarlaxle continued walking; keeping his keen elven senses open for the presence of magic in the area. He walked down a brambled path and through branches hanging with the soaking wetness of the rain, which had now completely subsided, while enjoying the fresh scent of the trees in the beginning evening; an aroma that made him glad to be out of the stale Underdark and in the presence of such sensory wonders. It was Midsummer's Eve, a night that Jarlaxle felt his senses were even keener while the air seemed to radiate with a powerful aura, even without the presence of magic in the area. This was his fifth Midsummer on the surface and every one, for some reason, seemed special.

The dark elf found he was too caught up in the beautiful smells and sights of the lush woods to realize exactly how far he had traveled. At last, he felt the slight tingle down his neck signifying an aura of magic that was very close. A few hundred feet later, the aura returned in full and Jarlaxle saw his rings take on their usual bright luster instead of the dull hue they had taken earlier. He walked out further to confirm this was the official end of the dead magic zone.

Jarlaxle was about to walk back, until his uncovered eye caught sight of what appeared to be a stone house covered by vines. He walked closer to find the vines washed over a whole series of white and gray stones that were once in the shape of pillars, houses, and various statues. He reached into his belt pouch and produced the scrap of parchment Tazmikella had given him at the start of their journey, comparing the markings to the general layout of this ruin and smiling.

"So this trip wasn't a waste after all," he muttered to himself with a small laugh as he took cautious steps closer to the ruins, scanning the area for any hidden creatures and wishing he had his companion with him.

As both a reasonably skilled ranger and a master rogue, Entreri could have easily maneuvered through these ruins, finding the tracks of potentially hostile creatures and disarming any ancient traps. Jarlaxle decided to scout out these ruins so the two could return here, heal Entreri's broken ankle, and conduct some actual business. He walked forward and stepped around the vines, finding that nothing in this area seemed to radiate with any particularly powerful magical energy. Following the map, Jarlaxle located the small building almost the shape of an outhouse where the map indicated an X.

"I hate to find what treasure this building holds," he said to himself with a dirty laugh. "Though maybe it is all diamonds now."

Trying to keep from laughing out loud at the thought of diamonds pressed from rather interesting components, the drow raised a slender hand and slightly parted the vines that covered the one side of the building, revealing a grand painting of a sunset over a silvery lake. Its hues were painted on with pigments naturally occurring in the woods wielded with delicate skill. Jarlaxle, still wrapped in the quiet awe of the magical evening, stood back and admired the painting. Without a thought, one finger gently bushed the wall, sending forth a bright burst of light as the drow felt himself pulled in through the wall and into another dimension.

Before he could even comprehend what had happened, Jarlaxle regained his senses enough to find he was lying in the soil and inside what appeared to be a large hollowed-out tree. He looked behind him to see a similar painting, though this one of a brilliant moon, on the wood surrounded by an ornately carved, arched wooden frame. It was now obvious he had been sucked through a portal that still obviously worked despite what probably had been decades of abandonment. The site was probably also the cause of the dead magic zone around his former area, as potent elven magic was still in place in that place left behind for the ages.

Jarlaxle knew the wise approach would be to go back through the portal…and return to a nice dinner of steaming leaves. Instead his curiosity got the better of him. He looked upwards to see the top of the hollow was a series of pointed branches bunched together that probably could be pushed upwards to an opening. Jarlaxle found a foothold in the side of the hollow, which bore the same consistency as what was probably the bark outside, and climbed upwards. After a minute he finally reached the branches on top, finding his balance with one hand grasping the side and the other sticking though the branches and prying them apart to reveal a series of hanging branches and a bright, night sky. He positioned himself further up, and then enacted his levitation allowing himself to slowly rise while prying apart the branches.

At last he rose out of the hollow and perched between high branches of what appeared to be a relatively short oak tree, while breathing in the fresh air and letting his eyes scan the expanse of woods below and the bright, full moon in the starry sky above. Then came the faint voices and rustle of leaves indicating a few passing beings below. Jarlaxle scrunched further behind the leaves, while still giving himself a decent view of the path. Five creatures dressed in colorful robes passed underneath; their slender forms, silvery-white skin, and long, pointed ears exposed by parted black and silver hair indicated this to be a party of surface elves, moon elves most likely.

Jarlaxle concentrated on their conversation and managed to pick up a "here in Moonwood" among the various ravings about the fantastic weather and the lovely night. So the portal led from one elven settlement to another, he thought. It only made sense. Jarlaxle knew this was his best time to leave, lest the whole population of Moonwood find a drow skulking in their trees; though it was a thought that came and went as he continued watching this group passing into the wood.

A few more elves passed though, all wearing bright colors and flowing garments. It was obvious the elves were celebrating Midsummer's Eve in some grand gathering. Then came a small parade of elven maidens all dressed in blue, silk robes playing wooden flutes in a merry, yet haunting tone and Jarlaxle found himself unable to keep his eyes off their beautiful forms let alone even consider returning to the portal.

As the last procession traveled by, the night became silent, all but the hooting of owls and the swish of leaves in the breeze. Then came another set of footsteps from what was probably a smaller party. He looked down and almost fell off his branch when he saw one of the travelers; an elven form with long, white hair obscuring his features, though clearly revealing an ebony neck and jaw. After a more careful inspection, Jarlaxle saw a thin sword strapped to each hip and breathed a sigh of relief as a red-haired human woman walked up behind him. It appeared he had crossed paths with Drizzt Do'Urden and lovely, supple Catti-brie once more.

Drizzt was dressed in simple trousers and a pale, green linen tunic with no adornments; his dress probably casual for the festivities. Catti-brie wore a long, flowing brown tunic that Jarlaxle noticed was slightly sheer at the right angle, allowing his honed sight a view of her shapely assets. Jarlaxle took his gaze off this beautiful form long enough to notice Drizzt had stood still and folded his arms over his chest and placed a calm glare on Catti-brie, whose expression was equally grim.

"What now?" she asked impatiently, her placing her hand on the oak in which the hidden drow had his perch and leaning back.

"I am just curious as to your expectations for this evening," Drizzt said gravely with a hint of hostility in his voice.

"Eat, drink, be merry," she replied in a similar tone. "That is the whole purpose to this gathering, isn't it?"

Drizzt fixed his gaze on her, remaining completely silent.

"Fine," he said at last, though his expression and tone indicated he had not received a sufficient answer.

"What do you want me to say?" Catti-brie asked, her voice a bit more strained.

"Let us start with why you insisted we come here in the first place."

"It's sad to hear you feel like you were dragged to this place you have so come to love, and the friends you will spend time with tonight."

Drizzt slightly winced, making Catti-brie realize her statement was more caustic than she had intended.

"Drizzt, it's Midsummer's Eve," she said, coming forward and stretching her arms out grandly. "It is a night of peace and love, where everyone is supposed to be merry. Relax, Drizzt, for once; take a few breathes, and enjoy the night however you may."

"You're absolutely right," Drizzt replied, his tone calm yet biting. "I will come here, spend much warm, close time with friends, and enjoy myself in whatever way I find appropriate. And you will not care no matter what."

Catti-brie locked him with a sad gaze and sighed.

"No, I won't care," she said. "I have stopped caring. Is that what you want me to hear?"

Drizzt stared at Catti-brie with heavy eyes.

"Yes, I believe that is what I did want to hear," he said, "though not for the reasons you are likely thinking. Catti-brie, too much has passed between us and I will say now that I can no longer tolerate this. I want this night to be a deciding factor in our future, whatever may occur."

"I couldn't agree with you more," she sneered.

The two locked stares for a second; blue and lavender eyes piercing through each other and communicating so much with merely a look. At last, Drizzt averted his gaze and turned back to the path, with Catti-brie following close behind.

Jarlaxle rested his chin in his hand, gently biting his index finger to keep from laughing at the rather amusing drama that played out below him.

So Drizzt Do'Urden, the hero of the land, is having problems with his princess, Jarlaxle thought with a grin as he watched the couple fade into the trees. Maybe the princess needs a new prince; perhaps someone more dashing and with a bit more humor. She seems to fancy dark elves already.

Jarlaxle allowed himself to be caught up in this fantasy, until he heard a slight swish of leaves behind him. He carefully turned his head in the direction of the sound to see four small creatures perched on the branches around him. All were small in stature and bore a spindly build. Their faces reminded him of child elves, yet their ears were longer and more pronounced in shape and the bright green leaves perfectly outlined their papery, blue wings. All were clad in what almost looked like large flower petals of varying varieties as their tiny feet were adorned with green shoes that curled at the toe.

All four creatures, whom Jarlaxle knew were pixies, glared at him with bright, yellow eyes while twittering a few words amongst themselves about the intruder. Jarlaxle returned the gaze, knowing that pixies were notoriously tricky creatures; especially towards creatures that exuded the aura of a not so pleasant nature, a description which Jarlaxle was fully aware applied to him.

Jarlaxle gave a warm smile and slowly came to his feet, finding balance on the forked branches and bowing low.

"Good evening, my friends," he said in elven, tipping his hat. "I apologize if my presence is unwelcome in your wood. I assure you I mean no harm and I was just about to depart in a peaceful fashion."

The pixies twittered amongst themselves again. Jarlaxle allowed himself to relax a little, before feeling a pricking sting in the back of his neck. He managed to reach his hand and pull out a tiny arrow the length and width of a hat pin before his thoughts rapidly clouded and his senses dulled.

He was aware of the whoosh of leaves and the swift momentum propelling him downward just before everything went black.


	3. Moonrise

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

**Chapter 3: Moonrise**

It started with a soft rhythmic beat of drums, the signal for the elves around the party grove to stop their respective conversations and pay complete attention to the silver haired, green clad drummer who had appeared at the back of the circle. A blonde flute player in a flowing blue dress followed close behind with a soft, yet merry whistle; bringing all the elves to their nimble feet in a sprightly dance. When a black-haired elf in a flowing white tunic stepped to the side of his companions plucking his lute softly, all the elves in the circle were lightly stepping and swinging around by a partner's arm before stepping away, clasping another arm, and continuing this dance. Agile legs were fueled by spirits. Spirits were fueled by the light, lively music and the vibrancy of the full moon's rays on this Midsummer's Eve.

Nialian stood off to the side admiring this spirited dance, though he himself was unable to take part. After spending eight hundred years in the world, Nialian's legs were beginning to weaken, though he was content with enjoying the spectacle under the hanging quartz lamps and the bright full moon giving the darkened sky a shade of silvery blue. He stood and savored the tingling magic in the air as spirits were high and smiles spread over the faces of all his people.

In the midst of this dancing crowd, Nialian saw a flash of bright blonde hair and a rich blue tunic float through the crowd, skipping in step with the music and looking positively giddy. Innovindil was like a bright ray of moonlight as she danced in lively step by herself, staying close to the musicians who flashed her bright smiles. Eventually she skipped into the rest of the group, spinning on the arms of a multitude of partners before returning to the back of the grassy circle, skipping and dancing like a child. Nialian couldn't pry his eyes off his old friend, who had spent too much time in the blackness of mourning and now looked happy at last.

The old priest took his eyes off his friend for a second to glance at the rest of those few, mostly elder, elves who stood to the side and watched this gleeful spectacle with wide smiles, while some recent arrivals took a few seconds to stand and savor this scene before filing their way onto the grove. As Nialian watched the thinning crowd of onlookers, his green-gold eyes spotted a more unusual figure walking into the circle. On closer look, Nialian immediately recognized the white-haired, ebon skin gentleman approaching, followed close behind by a radiant, human woman with deep auburn hair. The old priest's smile grew wider, happy that Drizzt Do'Urden and Catti-brie Battlehammer had been able to come after all. He had heard some rumors of trouble between the two, though he hoped this meant they had joined tonight in love.

That idea soon faded as he realized Drizzt and Catti-brie walked apart; their hands at their sides and their faces grim, yet open to any pleasantries that might lift what Nialian assumed to be a sad mood that hung over them as they inched closer on the other side of the circle.

Innovindil found herself too wrapped in the dance to notice anything on the outside of her immediate area. The flowing moon energy gave her the greatest sensation of complete, unadulterated bliss she had ever known. She hadn't danced like this in too long, not since the war and the death of her beloved Tarathiel. Even her dance with Drizzt Do'Urden last year wasn't this free.

The same Drizzt Do'Urden who was now standing outside the circle and watching; arms folded around his chest and face in a look of calm amusement.

Innovindil's heart leapt into her throat, yet she flinchd away and immediately turned her gaze back towards the latest elf lord who clasped her arm. A minute later, she calmed herself again and allowed her glance to fall to Drizzt, finding herself momentarily lost in those deep pools of lavender before flinching back and finding another partner. She tried to resist looking again, but she looked again to find Drizzt was gazing at her; as was Catti-brie, who bore a look of interest, yet slight annoyance. She flinched back and started skipping around the circle by herself, raising her slim, yet well-toned arms in the air as she allowed herself to savor the music. It was a moment that also brought to mind that soft, ebony skin and flowing white hair…

A firm, yet gentle hand on her arm pulled her out of this reverie. Innovindil looked down towards the hand of her new partner; the gentle, ebony hand. She looked up; her blue orbs now completely locked into the pools of lavender that also managed to regard Drizzt Do'Urden's warm smile. He then pulled her arm and brought her into the dance, his nimble feet meeting the rhythm of the lively drums and trilling flute perfectly. Innovindil laughed and let her feet follow along.

This wonderful moment was almost like their first meeting last year; though they were now swinging on each other's arms in a dance of happiness meant to display their fondness for each other's presence only, her thoughts screamed. Occasionally her glance would land on Catti-brie, whose look of irritated amusement was still plastered on her beautiful face as her bright blue eyes were fixed on them. Drizzt yanked her forward, pulling her gaze and thoughts away from Catti-brie as they continued the dance; lost once again in their own world.

The drums gently slowed and the flute gave a trilling crescendo before the music faded into nothingness. The elves gradually stilled as the energy of the grove fully released. The dancers then bowed and curtseyed to their respective partners while clapping politely at the bowing musicians, who then stepped out of the circle in perfect step.

Without missing a beat, Drizzt embraced Innovindil warmly. Innovindil stopped and savored the smell of sandalwood musk in his soft white hair while wrapping her arms around his lithe, yet powerful body.

"It is so good to see you, my friend," he whispered in her ear.

She kept her arms wrapped around him, savoring his warmth and the smell of his skin in this beautiful moment; though maybe for too long. At this sudden realization, Innovindil pulled back, though in a more abrupt manner than she had originally thought. Drizzt's smile slightly melted into look of hurt, an expression that tore at Innovindil's insides. She looked over to see Catti-brie approaching and readied herself for the wall of negativity behind a pleasing tapestry of politeness.

"Happy Midsummer, Innovindil," Catti-brie said in a surprisingly gleeful tone, wrapping her arms around the moon elf.

Innovindil politely returned the embrace, yet she sensed no tenseness in Catti-brie's body at all. Her muscles were completely relaxed and her embrace was warm, yet not overwhelming. Innovindil immediately relaxed, feeling welcome in Catti-brie's arms and further soothed by the subtle aroma rose water in her auburn hair. Both eventually pulled back and all three began exchanging too-pleasant conversation about the warm weather and the affairs of the day.

Nialian tried not to look too interested in the conversation, only glancing occasionally and allowing his sensitive hearing pick up the rest. In the course of this casual observation, the priest noted every hesitant touch, every muted tone, and every tentative reaction both physical and verbal. His honed senses and instincts detected so many opposing emotions between these three individuals, an overwhelming aura of tension and hurt mingled with distant aura of love and desire.

In the midst of this observation, the spark of an obvious idea came inside his mind. A small smile crept across his lined, yet handsome face as the realization fully dawned: Innovindil danced and floated like a river, Catti-brie was at staid and rooted as a stone, and Drizzt floated about the proceedings like a lingering cloud, as a servant of the spirit witnessed. All corresponded to the elements, all corresponded to each stone, and all of their fates were united.

All that was missing was a fourth person; a fiery presence, most definitely a male, that would complete the circle. Nialian's smile widened as he wondered who that could be; whether already a guest at the party or someone who would arrive soon.

0000000000

"The moon is growing higher," Talina said, leaning against a tall oak tree while putting a hand through her black hair.

She had been on patrol around the western perimeter of the main party grounds and her legs, while well honed for battle, were beginning to ache after eight hours of continuous walking.

"I say we walk back to the barracks," Aithen replied, stopping and adjusting the tautness on his fine bow. "All looks clear and we should be relieved soon."

"Good," Talina said, returning to her feet and stretching out one leg. "I could use a nice glass of punch right now."

Aithen nodded in fervent agreement as a few flowing blond locks bounced with the movement as he walked past his partner, who joined him in the direction of the barracks on the outskirts of the village just a mile away. They walked for a few feet engaged in small talk, mainly centering on their plans for the rest of the evening. As they walked along the path, what looked to be a large, purple hat almost crawled in their direction from the outer brush.

Both stopped and stared at the moving hat, that occasionally produced almost chirping giggles. Aithen nocked an arrow and aimed while Talina's longsword was now in her hand. Both elven rangers then relaxed then two pairs of gossamer wings bobbed from the inside of the hat and two pixie bodies emerged from the brim with curious glances.

"Hello," both chirped simultaneously to both irritated, yet slightly amused moon elves in brown and green woodland clothes.

"Have you and your siblings been up to mischief again?" Aithen groaned.

"Mischief?" one pixie lord in leggings of holly leaves asked in feigned innocence, "no, we do no mischief."

His stouter companion, clad in a robe of daisy petals, squeaked and shook his little, green-capped head. The two elves glanced at each other and then looked back at the hat.

"Oh really," Talina said, "and this is your usual style of head ware?"

Both pixies looked at each other, then back at the elves shaking their heads with squeaks of denial.

"Not ours," the thinner pixie said. "A present to the elveses does though."

Both pixies started giggling as Talina and Aithen looked at each other again. This could not be good.

"We show elvses their present," the stout pixie said, flying from the hat with his brother close beside and buzzing down the path.

Weapons still drawn, Aithen took the lead while Talina fell behind looking down both directions of the path. The path then opened into a small clearing in the trees, where ten pixies of various dress stood and sat in branches and flew around the scene in interest. The elves also noticed that a few were carrying around various brilliant gold rings, while others flew away with long, gold chains. Aithen saw another pixie try to position a triangular shaped cloth adorned with a brilliant, red jewel over his head as a hat or over his body as a cape, thought the moon elf knew it was likely an eye patch.

On the ground was a small, humanoid form wrapped tightly in vines. Both elves looked at the bundle in confusion as Aithen came up further and Talina kept behind, her green-gold eyes scanning the small crowd of twittering and chuckling pixies.

She could not see the face of the figure, but noticed when her partner suddenly tensed and aimed his bow directly at the bundle and slowly drew closer.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"_Mori-quessir_," Aithen hissed.

Talina drew in a sharp gasp as she sheathed her sword and drew her bow, nocking an arrow and scanning the trees for any sign of an unseen, dark elf presence. She gradually drew closer towards the figure and soon caught sight of the unmistakable black skin and red eyes of the prone drow. His limbs were tightly wrapped in vines, yet his face bore a look of amused confusion. The dark elf then looked at both elves with a wide smile and nodded his bald head in recognition.

"Well, good evening, my fine fellows," the drow said cheerily in perfect Common.

"Who are you and what is your purpose?" Aithen barked, aiming his blow closer to the dark elf's head.

"We founds him in a twee," one little pixie lord squeaked.

The drow regarded Aithen calmly, before letting his eyes trail off in what looked to be an expression of contemplation as the pixies chuckled louder.

"My name and my purpose?" the drow said while squinting his red eyes in contemplation before giving an embarrassed laugh "You know, I was wondering that myself. Now isn't that curious."

"No games, drow," Talina sneered, drawing forward, "these woods are surrounded by our people and you and whatever associates you brought from your cursed caverns are greatly outnumbered!"

The pixies laughed louder so that it sounded as if the trees themselves were twittering. Aithen rolled his eyes and regarded the tiny crowd, knowing they were up to something.

"Umm," one pixie lady in a rose petal dress squeaked while bringing up her bow, "I don't thinks he'll be answering yous. We gaves him a little prick."

"You shot him with a memory erasing arrow?" Talina said politely, though in an annoyed tone.

The pixie maiden nodded her head fervently with a shrill giggle as her fellows cheered and laughed.

"Damn pixies," Aithen muttered in his partner's ear before turning to the rest of the twittering crowd. "I hope you all realize we could be surrounded by dark elves ready to strike at any second and we will not have any idea because our only reliable witness doesn't even know his own name let alone his company's purpose."

"Ain'ts no black elveses here," a small lord in oak leaf leggings piped up, followed by various head shakes and concurring responses.

"You scoured these woods and found no other drow?" Talina asked, felling slightly more relieved.

The pixies shook their heads with various chimes of "no," "uh-uh," and "just him."

Both elves breathed sighs of relief, knowing that the pixies were small enough and possessed the right powers to detect a troupe of drow, especially considering they were able to find this one. Their attentions then turned to the various coins and pieces of jewelry the pixies were hauling away; figuring none of them were of an evil purpose or else the pixies would not have touched them.

Talina raised a sapphire ring to her mouth and spoke a summons to another pair of elven patrollers nearby. Aithen put his bow back in the quiver and drew his sword, cutting the vines surrounding the dark elf. When his limbs were free, Talina produced a set of finely forged mithril manacles, enchanted to keep the prisoner's wrists comfortably frozen in one position, and locked the drow's wrists behind his back while helping Aithen lift him to his feet.

"Now that's a bit more comfortable," the drow said cheerily, stretching his legs and wrists, "but are these restraints really necessary?"

Aithen grabbed his left arm and yanked him forward as Talina trained her bow on the drow while keeping a watch on the trees.

"Farewell, my winged friends," the drow called back to the pixies.

In response, a hail of acorns and pebbles bounced off his bald head and the back of his ebony neck, causing the dark elf to wince slightly before continuing on.

The elves lead their prisoner a few feet further down the path when two more elves in leather armor and woodland garb came to them, flinching at the sight of the dark elf and drawing their swords.

"The pixies caught him perched in one of the trees," Aithen said. "There appear to be no others, but others could be on the way."

"We also have no clue who he is or what vile cause he represents," Talina added with a sigh. "He was struck with an arrow that erased his memory."

"I am certain Nialian Springleaf has an elixir to reverse the charm," Sialwe, a silver-haired warrioress added, aiming her longsword at the dark elf's chest.

"You should also know that Drizzt Do'Urden is in the village," Kelvir, a black haired lord whispered in Aithen's ear. "He and Catti-brie Battlehammer arrived a little over an hour ago. I say we keep the drow in the barracks and send for them. Maybe Master Drizzt knows this dark elf."

"A wise idea," Aithen replied, eyes widening with relieved enthusiasm. "Though do not cause a stir in the village. If anyone else learns of this drow's presence, it could be enough to cause panic."

Kelvir nodded and rushed back to the village as his three kin escorted the still-confused drow to the nearby barracks.

0000000000

Drizzt leaned back against the tree still maintaining passing small-talk with a few other revelers, though his thoughts had been on so many other matters since he first arrived.

With that first, awkward meeting with Innovindi, the theme of the night was firmly. Drizzt was not entirely surprised when Innovindil conveniently found some other conversations on the opposite side of the grove while Catti-brie hovered away a short time later. And so it had stayed for the past hour and a half; the two women maintained their distractions in separate, distant parts of the part circle while Drizzt leaned against this same tree, engaging in passing chit-chat, while sipping his third, no fifth goblet of wine, suddenly realizing why he was feeling significantly more relaxed since first arriving.

I should probably stick to the lemon punch from now on, he thought with a pained smirk as he took another hard sip on his silver goblet while watching Catti-brie engaged in deep conversation with a black-haired elf lord in blue wizard's robes. Catti-brie's fingers were now playing with the long, black braid that came over the moon elf's silk robe as Drizzt wondered what point she was trying to demonstrate with that gesture.

So here I am now, he thought; the great hero of the land slowly becoming inebriated while basking in the cold shoulders of my lady love and his one time mistress.

Drizzt crossed his arms and adjusted his footing to keep from further aggravating the sore muscles in the area of his left hip, which met the wrong end of an orc's club during the war and still pained him from time to time…like tonight of all nights. It was too perfect.

For some reason, descriptions of diplomatic matters with Silverymoon seemed a little more humorous, as both Catti-brie and her new companion were laughing heartily and gently clasping each other's arms for sympathy, or support, or a quick feel. Drizzt gave a brief chuckle as he slowly yet steadily drained his goblet.

Maybe it would be a good night for Catti-brie after all, Drizzt thought. At least one of us will have a relaxing evening.

He then looked at Innovindil across the grove, who was still engaged in conversation with a few more of the attendees. She had barely said a word to him in the hour and a half since he arrived. She seemed to be doing her best to avoid him, yet her blue-gold eyes would linger on him many times.

We do need to talk before the night is over, he thought to himself with a sigh; alone, in the woods, her gold hair shining in the moonlight…

Maybe it was only fair that Catti-brie find a male admirer that night, he thought. Why shouldn't she savor forbidden fruits, just like I did? Maybe what she did need was the physical comfort of another handsome, elven lord; someone who could finally agree with her.

In the midst of this painful moment, Drizzt's attention was caught by the steady shuffling of feet in his direction. Pivoting on his right heel, he looked behind the tree and saw a black-haired elf in leather armor walking towards him with a gait of purpose. Drizzt stood away from his maple leaning post and met the soldier with a nod.

"Master Drizzt, so sorry to disturb you," Kelvir said bowing, "but there is trouble on the outskirts of the village."

Orcs, Drizzt thought hopefully. I wouldn't mind cutting up a few orcs tonight.

Kelvir leaned in further and looked around to make sure no one else was listening.

"We found a dark elf skulking around the perimeter," Kelvir said.

Drizzt felt his stomach drop.

"He was caught by a large group of pixies, who say they found him in one of the trees," the moon elf continued. "He is in custody in the barracks and we thought it best to summon you for possible identification."

"I appreciate the summons," Drizzt said, "lead on."

With calm, yet hurried gaits, Kelvir lead Drizzt away from the party and into the woods.

"Have any more been spotted?" Drizzt asked louder, looking back and making sure he was far enough away from the rest of the party.

"None thus far," Kelvir replied. "The pixies are everywhere. If they caught the one in the first place, we figured the rest were at least a good distance behind if not absent altogether. However, I do not think we are dealing with any sort of a patrol. This one was wearing surface clothing and we found neither armor nor any insignia of allegiance to Lolth or Vhaeraun. We do know he is of an evil disposition, otherwise the pixies would have left him alone."

"Possibly a spy, then," Drizzt added.

"If he is a spy, his company did a rather poor job of attiring him. His clothes were courtlier and my fellows found this rather large, plumed hat next to his person."

Drizzt stopped in his tracks and gave a muted groan, not knowing whether he wanted to laugh or weep.

"We suspected he may be a wizard or other type of caster," Kelvir continued, "though he radiated no magic. He was, however, in possession of several pieces of magical jewelry, which the pixies claimed before we discovered him."

"He did not perchance to have a shaved head, did he?" Drizzt asked, though he knew full well who this was.

"Like a ball of polished onyx," Kelvin replied. "Are you familiar with a drow of this description?"

"Very much so," Drizzt said, "though if it is who I think it is, there is no danger here."

Drizzt continued down the path with Kelvir close at his side. Barely a few seconds later, the two arrived at a small hut with constructed with various shaved logs. No door was visible and the entire exterior was painted like a wall of ivy, allowing the structure to blend in with the brush. Kelvir placed a small leaf pendant from around his neck on the wall. A simple door faded into view and opened, allowing him and Drizzt to walk through.

Drizzt stepped inside the relatively spacious area adorned with various green tapestries with armor and weapons hanging from hooks on the walls. He nodded in greeting to the two moon elf soldiers standing on both sides of the room before looking down to the dark figure seated on a wooden bench with his hands behind his back, likely tied or manacled.

"By the gods," Drizzt groaned with an involuntary laugh, putting his head in his hands for a second before composing himself and looking directly at Jarlaxle.

"You appear to also be a dark elf," Jarlaxle said tentatively with a confused, yet cheery expression. "Have we met before?"

"He was struck with a pixie's memory arrow," Naithen said, coming over to Drizzt. "His memory was completely erased. He doesn't even know his own name let alone why he is here. Sialwe returned to the village to find Nialian. Just one potion and his memory can be restored. In the meantime, I take it you know this drow."

"His name is Jarlaxle," Drizzt said, "an unaligned surface rogue and seasoned mercenary. I assure you, Jarlaxle is more scoundrel than villain and his presence poses no danger. However, his only known companion may also be in these woods and he is indeed a villain. I ask for you and your soldiers to be on the look-out for a small human man of obvious Calishite blood. He carries a sword and an ornate dagger with an emerald in the hilt. This man is completely dangerous, so use caution."

"I will go out and alert the other patrols," Talina said coming forward.

"Whatever happens, do not bring this matter to the attention of the villagers," Drizzt said, "it could cause panic and further alert any unwanted parties."

"Absolutely," Talina said with a nod as she walked through the door, only to be pushed aside by a new figure coming in.

"Catti-brie, what are you doing here?" Drizzt asked pointedly.

"Someone told Nialian there was trouble and he sent me to investigate," Catti-brie said in an irritated tone. "He will be along shortly."

Catti-brie stepped further into the cabin and looked beyond Drizzt's shoulder to see…

"You bastard!" she growled, drawing her sword, shoving Drizzt's shoulder aside and rushing before Jarlaxle. "What in the Nine Hells brings your ugly face here, you parasite?"

Drizzt grabbed Catti-brie's sword arm and held her back as the moon elves came forward in defensive positions. Drizzt's grasp was hard, yet she struggled violently and continued to lunge at Jarlaxle.

"Pardon me, my lady, but have a wronged you in some way?" Jarlaxle asked; his expression more confused.

"Wronged me, ye slimy son of an ooze?" Catti-brie hissed, gaining back her dwarven accent in a rage as she tried to break from Drizzt's grasp, which was now locked on her other arm. "Let me go and I'll slam me fist so far in his mouth he'll have teeth comin' out his arse!"

"Catti-brie calm down," Drizzt growled, yanking her back around to face him. "He was hit with a pixie memory charm. He remembers nothing and when Nialian arrives, we will find out why he is here. In the meantime, please get a hold of yourself. If you can make any contributions, then stay if you are just going to rave, go back to the village."

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth, sheathing her sword and forcing herself to calm slightly, though her rage was far from spent.

Catti-brie broke Drizzt's grasp and used her whole side to shove him…right against his still-sore hip. Drizzt gave a shrill gasp as the wave of pain shot through his muscles.

"Bitch!" he thought…out loud apparently, judging by the death glare from Catti-brie, the raised eyebrows of the elves, and Jarlaxle's giddy chuckle.

Catti-brie turned and walked from the hut as Drizzt felt the heat building in his face. He took a few deep breathes and managed to suppress the burning ache in his side while trying to calm himself down.

"I guess Catti-brie found the situation under control," a soothing, melodic voice said from the side of the hut.

Drizzt looked over to see Nialian Springleaf entering the hut directly through the wall and immediately felt relieved.

"I heard you apparently have an amnesiac dark elf in custody?" the old priest asked with a small laugh.

"An old acquaintance of mine slipped into these woods," Drizzt said. "Take this as an indication that your security forces are quite able."

"As are our faerie friends," the priest said with a laugh.

Nialian stepped past Drizzt and took a first look at the captured drow. Drizzt noticed the priest's eyes widened and his face dropped with what almost looked to be sad recognition.

"His name is Jarlaxle," Drizzt said carefully, noticing how Nialian's eyes closed at that name. "He is merely a mercenary and poses no real threat."

"I understand, Master Drizzt," Nialian replied, forcing a smile. "I have a potion that will restore his memory, though I ask all of you to leave me alone with the drow so I might exact some information from him."

"Of course, my friend," Kelvir said, nodding and walking towards the front-most door with Aithen following behind.

Nialian's gaze fell to Jarlaxle, who merely nodded and smiled in recognition. The priest heard the door close, yet was aware a presence was still in the room. He looked back to find Drizzt still standing by the door, his arms folded.

"Nialian, Jarlaxle is an honorable man," Drizzt said softly. "A drow sellsword with a wicked reputation, yes, though he is little like our kin. Catti-brie and I owe him many life debts and I have come to consider him a friend. Please swear to me that he will come to no harm. I ask this not only on behalf of myself but also on behalf of my late father, who also called him a friend."

"Drizzt, rest assured," Nialian said with a tone of utmost calm while clasping Drizzt's shoulder, "I mean your kinsman no harm. I merely want to restore his memory and have a chat, nothing more. I have come to know that a friend of Drizzt Do'Urden is a friend of ours'. Jarlaxle will be in excellent hands, you have my absolute word."

"I honor that word, Nialian," Drizzt replied with a small smile, "and I will be assured."

Drizzt clasped Nialian's shoulder, gave a small bow, and turned towards the door with a last glance at Jarlaxle before opening the deceptively thin opening and walking out.

Nialian stood and faced Jarlaxle, feeling his old hands tremble slightly.

"Hello, my friend," Jarlaxle said with a profound bow of the head. "Have we met before?"

Nialian smiled and gave a small chuckle.

"Yes indeed we have," he said, removing the vial of healing potion from his blue robe.


	4. Rising Silver Rays

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

**Chapter 4: Rising Silver Rays**

The loud hacking of brush was followed by a long stream of harsh grunts that sometimes took the form of barely decipherable curses in what Drizzt interpreted as a mix of dwarven, elven, goblin, and the poorest use of Common he had ever heard in a native speaker. Catti-brie was on a tirade, or a tantrum; the two looked too much the same. Drizzt casually strode through the path trying to quell a growing…rage? No, he had long stopped feeling anything resembling rage at anything that Catti-brie did any more. Annoyance, maybe? This feeling was too strong. He ultimately decided that deep frustration was the best way to describe how he felt at the moment.

Regardless of how he could describe his feelings, he knew he would need to talk to Catti-brie; or at least prevent her from being crushed by a treant for sundering his or her cousin.

At last, Drizzt saw Catti-brie through the trees and saw her hacking at a large tree stump with her longsword; face red as her hair and twisted into an expression of complete murderous rage. He stopped, folded his arms, and took a few deep breaths; allowing himself a chance to calm down before continuing.

Is she had been in this state just a year ago, he thought, I would have been a little more disturbed.

Drizzt gave a sad smirk before sighing and walking forward, bracing himself for the hurricane he had just sprinted into.

"I am glad to see you are saving your temper tantrum for dead trees and not live ones," Drizzt said, coming right in front of her.

His sudden appearance was greeted by edge of a sword held at his neck as its wielder glared at him, face locked in a scowl and blue eyes practically shooting venom. It was a look to which he had become accustomed, though the sword was an added touch. He knew she wouldn't kill him (at least he hoped). Even if she moved the sword any further, it would be swatted away by a scimitar in the blink of an eye (he assumed).

"Catti-brie," Drizzt said calmly, "I spoke out of turn back there. I am very sorry I called you what I did."

The two locked stares for a second, before Catti-brie's eyes softened.

"You don't need to apologize, Drizzt," she sighed.

Catti-brie's gait relaxed and she slowly lowered the sword…only to raise it again and hold it between his right leg and the fleshy bulge in his trousers. A chill went down Drizzt's spine as sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Because I am a bitch," she hissed, her eyes shooting daggers.

Drizzt winced slightly, staying completely still and eyeing the sword, whose blade was angled upwards to a part of his body he did not realize he was so protective of until now. With a deep breath, he fixed his gaze back on Catti-brie with raised eyebrows of anticipation and annoyance.

Maybe she will see her taunts are having little effect and lower the damn sword, he thought.

She raised her nose in the air and sniffed, lowering the sword slowly and gradually drawing it away. Drizzt relaxed slightly but did not even breathe until she shoved the blade back in its scabbard with a scream of metal.

"Besides you've barely learned to use that weapon yet," she sneered. "It wouldn't be very fair of me to just disarm you in that case, now would it?"

Drizzt rolled his eyes and shifted his position with a relieved sigh.

"So why's that bastard here?" Catti-brie continued.

"I am still not sure," Drizzt replied, trying to sound casual despite the fact this latest episode went a little too far. "Nialian arrived and sent me out before restoring his memory. He said he wanted to talk to Jarlaxle alone and I respected that request."

"Nialian's a good man," she replied, crossing her arms and staring off into the woods. "I'm sure he'll put that fool in his place."

"Catti-brie," Drizzt said tentatively, debating whether or not any further words would have him facing a drawn sword again, "Jarlaxle has saved both our lives on many occasions where our death or capture would have furthered his goals, and you know that. If he did anything to you in Menzoberranzan other than what you have told me, I need to know and I promise he will be dealt with harshly."

Catti-brie threw her hands up and sighed hard.

"No, he didn't," she said, her tone raised. "Doesn't mean I like him any more. I can't believe after what he put you through the last time you met that do didn't want to run him through. He damn near got you killed, Drizzt."

"And he had me healed, remember?" Drizzt said firmly. "He could have left me bleeding to death on the floor of that damn tower and savored his cursed partner's little victory. He could have crushed all of you before you left and been none the better for it. Instead he had his cleric, a cleric of Lolth no less, take me from the brink and get us all out of there safely, as he swore to me. He's an honorable man, Catti-brie. I have come to that conclusion after our last encounter. I have no idea why he is here or what he intends to accomplish, but I am at least willing to listen to him with clear judgment and an open mind before making my own conclusions. Would it be too hard to ask you to do the same?"

Catti-brie paused for a second as a look of defeat mixed with burning rage formed on her face. Drizzt tried to hide his smile, but not well enough before Catti-brie looked at him again; the fires reigniting.

"What d'you think you'll get if ye keep raising that fine, elven arse of yours', Drizzt Do'Urden," she said evenly, a scowl firmly planted on her face. "Enough people t'kiss it?"

Drizzt groaned and rolled his eyes again.

"Gods, you're worse than a dwarf," he replied. "No, you're just being a child now."

"To the Hells with you!" she spat, coming up to him and sticking a finger in his face. "I just faced down someone who held me captive once. No, he didn't do anything to me, but I can't say I'm thrilled to see him here. Just have a little understanding…"

"For what, Catti-brie?" Drizzt snapped, his voice taking a louder tone than he had intended. "As far as I recall, you have done nothing but break my stones about every little thing for the past year. What in the Nine Hells makes you think I should cut you any slack at all?"

"Will this is the first gods damned time you've ever actually opened you're mouth and said anything," she shouted. "I've gotten so used to you just leaning in your corner and giving me those patient glares of yours. Are you trying to tell me you are actually capable of communicating? This is going to take a lot to get used to since you're always waiting 'til you've got you're sword in your hand or a hand down your pants before getting anything out!"

His gait was calm, but the look in his eyes unnerved her, a glare she had seen in combat many times; that burning shade of lavender his irises would take when he was truly enraged. Catti-brie immediately backed away, though not before coming downwind of his steady, yet forced breath which bore the slight odor of sweet elven wine.

"My, this evening's coming to a great start," she said with a nervous chuckle.

Drizzt kept his arms at his side, his glare still boring into Catti-brie for another silent moment.

"You know, you never answered my question," he said in an eerie calm, "Why exactly did we come here tonight? And I will accept no pithy, meaningless excuses this time."

Catti-brie returned the silent glare, before letting her gaze return to the woods as her hands trembled.

"I am not going to be naïve enough to assume you just wanted to 'rekindle a dying flame' as it were," he said, his voice slightly louder. "Did you want to test my fidelity, see if I will give in to temptation again? Given your demeanor towards me this past year, I doubt that's the case. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I you saw me lay half the ladies, half the lords, and get my entrails ripped out and even care less."

Catti-brie winced at this description, yet she said nothing.

"Maybe you wanted to give us one last hurrah before you finally leave," he continued.

Catti-brie's eyes closed tightly.

"I believe I have struck gold," he said in a biting tone. "So where are you running, Catti-brie? Is it another man; Wulfgar perhaps? Either way, I myself am beyond the point of caring."

Catti-brie gave a frustrated sigh that resembled a sob. She knew she should have thrown the question in his face, or just kept her mouth shut, but matters had gone too far already.

"It's not Wulfgar," she said softly, her voice threatening to crack.

Drizzt sniffed hard and looked to the woods. Catti-brie ran a hand through her thick, auburn hair.

"I don't want his name," Drizzt said evenly.

"Deudermont," Catti-brie said softly.

"I beg your pardon?" Drizzt asked, his tone significantly louder as he turned his head back towards Catti-brie.

Catti-brie hastily reached into her belt and snatched out a crumpled white scroll, throwing it at Drizzt, who easily caught it though his burning eyes never left her. After taking a second to calm himself, he looked down, gently unfurled the scroll, and immediately recognized Captain Deudermont's flowing handwriting.

"Dear Catti-brie," he read out loud. "I cannot say how happy I was to receive your letter. I am very glad to hear you and Wulfgar were able to find his daughter safe. We were praying for Colson's safe return. Please extend my heartfelt condolences to Wulfgar on behalf of myself and my wife for the tragic death of Delly. She was a fine woman and she is missed greatly. To answer your question, the hunting has been very good. Like the stinkweeds in my garden, the pirates seem to pop up in just as many numbers this time of year. _The Sea Sprite _has a full crew, but you and your bow are more than welcome aboard."

Drizzt paused and lowered the scroll, allowing himself to clear the thick heaviness in the back of his throat that blocked his voice before raising the scroll and continuing.

"We sail from Waterdeep two tendays from Midsummer, but come as early as you can. I want you to get better acquainted with the new crew before we ship out. Robillard has been working on a new arrow that he swears would be perfect for your bow, so you might want to test that out and give the stubborn old fool the benefit of the doubt. It's a shame to hear Master Drizzt can't join you…" Drizzt paused again as his temples began to throb and the ache in his hip slowly crept back in, "…but if you do manage to pry him away from those orcs, he and Guenwhyvar are more than welcome aboard as well. I eagerly await your arrival, though I can't say the same for the pirates. With best regards, Deudermont."

Drizzt stared at the script for a second. He sighed hard and rolled the scroll, a smile

coming over his face though his muscles trembled.

"You didn't plan to tell me about this," he said with a nervous laugh.

Catti-brie shook her head as a tear came down her cheek.

"I'm seein' ye mad," she said, her dwarven accent returning. "And I don't want to know what that's like when you've been drinkin'. So I'm doin' us both a favor."

"Yes you are," he sneered. "You've finally decided to take the initiative and do something besides glaring and snapping at me. Congratulations, maybe you've grown up after all. So, were you planning on leaving anyway, or was your departure contingent on how tonight went; whatever the outcome?"

Catti-brie stared hard at him and remained silent.

"Maybe a little of both," she said weakly.

"To be perfectly honest," he said, his voice even more strained. "I hoped it was the former, because I think I have been tested enough."

He flung the scroll hard at Catti-brie, clipping her shoulder with a burning sting. She flinched hard and let out a small yelp as the scroll fell to the grass.

"Drizzt, it's not like that," she said desperately, tears welling in her eyes as her hands trembled.

"To the Hells with you, Catti-brie," Drizzt snapped, his voice cracking. "I've had it!"

He turned on his heel and started walking away.

"Drizzt, please," she called.

"Send Deudermont and Robillard my regards," he called back, continuing towards the village and feeling the first burning tears.

00000000

The flood of memories assaulted every part of his being, making his only consciousness the rush of images and sounds from four hundred thirty years of existence: four hundred thirty years of nightmares made real, friends alive and destroyed, moments of torture and ecstasy. The entire span of Jarlaxle's existence seemed to flood his brain like a tidal wave.

Then all was quiet as his vision was now a wave of blackness. Peace came to him at last.

He gave a soft groan as his first conscious sensation was the pounding in his temples as if he had just dived head first into a quarry. With great effort, he opened his bleary eyes and regarded the thin, green rug on which his aching head rested as he realized his body was completely prone on the floor of the cabin he had been brought to earlier. Jarlaxle gave another groan and managed to roll on his back as the pounding in his temples subsided enough so he could use his brain for the first real recollections of the night.

"The pixies," he groaned as so many things started to make sense. "The gods damned pixies."

After taking another second to analyze the thatched ceiling while still regaining his bearings, he conjured enough strength to sit up…in one effort.

"_Vith_!" Jarlaxle yelped as the wave of blood rushed through his head, dizzying him for one painful second before his head cleared once again.

He buried his bald head in his hands as the rush of blood subsided and then straightened, taking a clearer look at the inside of the cabin and noticing that that he was alone; his hands moving freely and no longer locked in manacles. Neither was he wearing his eye patch, nor any of his many rings and chains, making him feel completely naked: the bad kind of naked.

"Those little elf-faced insects will come to regret this," he said calmly.

Jarlaxle sighed and came to his feet in one motion, yelping as another wave of blood rushed through his head and threatened to topple him again. That memory charm must have been strong.

He took a few deep breathes, relieved that the ache in his head had fully subsided and he was now completely aware of his surroundings; scanning the simply embroidered green tapestries and admiring the craftsmanship in the swords and bows hanging from the walls as a part of him wondered why he was left alone and unguarded in this room full of weapons. It was only then that he felt a tingle down his spine; some type of magic was at work here.

The low, green tapestry on the opposite wall faded to blue and waved as if swept by a small breeze. The fabric ripples then gradually expanded to form a humanoid figure, whose basic physical features became more apparent. Jarlaxle held firm. His first instinct was to reach for one of the swords on the wall, and then be struck down by either the new presence or the wards on the weapons. Instead he remained expressionless as he steeled himself for what might come next.

The figure then fully materialized: the small, frail man whose long, silver hair and piercing, green-gold eyes made Jarlaxle's heart drop. This had to be an illusion, he thought, a vision of memory's past brought on by the breaking of the pixies' charm. He stared at the figure and noticed how his face was now drawn with lines, appropriate for an already elder elf who had aged three hundred fifty years.

This figure was real and now standing in front of him. In an instant, Jarlaxle's mind focused on the surface reconnaissance mission that had gone horribly wrong. The now-distant memory of being a young man, a lowly member of the House Baenre guard, sent with four fellows to find weaknesses in Elven defenses, only to be greeted by a small army of highly trained orcs who easily swept through the small brigade and left all in pieces.

All but him; the lucky little bastard who managed to hide under a fallen tree with merely two broken legs and a gaping hole in his shoulder. Jarlaxle recalled lying prone; feeling his consciousness fade as he mentally rehearsed an appropriately grand greeting to Lady Lolth once he reached the Demonweb Pits. His fast blurring vision then met the bright green-gold eyes that stared at him now as so many memories of this one, soft face flooded his brain again.

"Nialian Springleaf," he said softly, feeling the steady burn in the pit of his stomach.

"Jarlaxle Baenre," Nialian said matter-of-factly, though his frail hands trembled and his voice threatened to fail him.

"It has been a very long time," Jarlaxle said, feeling the rising pressure in his temples as he readied himself for a more formal conversation with his savior, his friend, his…

"Three hundred fifty years" the old priest said. "You are a mature man now; your face is lined and that flowing, white hair has been scraped off, but I never forgot your face."

Jarlaxle's gaze never left those piercing green-gold eyes he had peered into on so many occasions in ancient history.

"I knew you returned to Menzoberranzan," Nialian continued. "I never expected to see you again, Jarlaxle. I thought they would have killed you."

"No, I was the pet of too many to be so easily wasted," Jarlaxle replied with a gentle shake of the head.

"Of course you told your superiors so many different stories about your great deeds in the name of the drow," the priest said, his hands trembling more. "Embellished of course."

"I did what I had to do in order to stay alive," Jarlaxle said tersely. "I hope you understand."

Nialian slowly nodded as a sad smile came on his lined face. Jarlaxle stared at him and felt emotionally exposed; a truly horrifying sensation that he knew was saving his soul.

"I…apologize for running off without a word," Jarlaxle said, suddenly hearing his own voice crack. "You saved my life. Ignored my skin and did all you could to keep me from dying. After all you had done for me; I at least owed you a note."

"You did what you had to do to stay alive," Nialian said softly. "I never expected anything less."

Jarlaxle nodded, fully understanding his meaning.

"So, you are on the surface now?" Nialian asked. "A mercenary."

"It's a fine profession," Jarlaxle said with a small smirk, "It has made my fortune, given me power in all forms. Some say I am Menzoberranzan's true ruler, though I have found the Lands of the Light a bit more hospitable."

Nialian gave a nervous chuckle and Jarlaxle responded with the same, knowing how ridiculous he probably sounded. He saw Nialian trying to stay completely calm, though his limbs were trembling and small tears welled in those beautiful eyes. With a sigh, Jarlaxle raised a hand and gently placed it on Nialian's shoulder.

"Oh, Jarlaxle," Nialian sobbed, grabbing his both his shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace, his small form trembling as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Jarlaxle completely abandoned his calm façade and returned the embrace, feeling the warm body of his old friend and savoring his mere presence. His form had grown frailer, yet it was still Nialian in every way.

"You're alive," the old priest sobbed. "I thought you were lost."

"I'm here now," Jarlaxle replied, rubbing his cheek against Nialian's; onyx meeting moonstone in the softest touch.

It only felt natural when those soft lips found the corner of his mouth. Jarlaxle turned his head slightly and gradually let his own lips fully wrap around those of his lost friend in a kiss that lacked the passion of their last one, yet showed no less affection to a man who had been everything to him for even a small time many centuries ago.

Nialian's hand gently clasped the back of Jarlaxle's neck as he pulled him in harder, deepening the kiss enough to fully display every ounce of emotion pouring through him at that moment as he savored those soft, black lips that he thought were lost to him forever. Jarlaxle joined in, feeling his own hand come to the back of the moon elf's head as his fingers tangled in that silky silver hair and a small tear came down his own cheek as his lips parted slightly to fully savor the mouth of his old lover.

At last the emotional wave reached its end. Both elves let one, soft kiss linger before their lips parted, their cheeks rubbed against each other, and both chins came to rest on the other's warm shoulder.

"Words cannot express how happy I am to see you once again, Jarlaxle," Nialian whispered, his hand gently caressing Jarlaxle's bald head.

"It has been too long, Nialian," Jarlaxle replied softly, feeling blissfully comfortable in this wonderful moment.

The embrace lingered, and then both gently pulled back.

"There is a kettle and a tin of orange tea around here," Nialian said, his emerald eyes locked in the ruby orbs of his old friend and lover. "I say we put it on and have a nice little chat."

"Absolutely," Jarlaxle said, knowing that his time here hadn't been wasted after all.

00000000

Innovindil immediately recognized the small form perched in the small maple tree down the hill from where she stood. Normally, the brown tunic would have blended her in with the leaves, but that shock of auburn hair gave Catti-brie's presence away. The moon elf stood still as she watched Catti-brie reclining against the trunk, one leg dangling down and swinging like a pendulum as the other was extended onto the long, sturdy branch. Innovindil couldn't see her face, but knew nothing was well with her at all.

Something had happened between Drizzt and Catti-brie. That fact became painfully obvious when Drizzt had returned to the party alone an hour ago, making conversation with various other attendees in a strained tone while his gait was as equally tense. Innovindil still kept her distance, though it pained her. She was still uncomfortable with the idea of lingering around her illicit lover too long, so she slipped away for a few moments to one of her favorite rocky ledges that gave her an excellent view of the valley; including that red-haired figure reclining in the tree.

Innovindil watched Catti-brie, feeling a burning guilt at her silence; a silence she could not allow to continue any longer.

Innovindil gently hopped from her position, finding handholds crags that gently brought her down the shallow slope and back into the forest, he light steps carrying her towards the tree. A few sprints later, she was directly below Catti-brie, who continued gazing at the moon, eyes red and a few lingering tears crawling down her fine cheeks.

Catti-brie's only focus had been the moon and the growing ache in her back and rear from her hard, wooden perch, though she was numb to everything else. The fight with Drizzt echoed through her brain; every harsh word, every curse made her stomach churn.

I should have told him about Deudermont, she thought again, though she still wished he had never mentioned her plans at all.

All she wanted was for a fine Midsummer, at least one final chance to reconnect with Drizzt and find the passion with her lover and best friend that had been so lacking. Now all they had done tonight was argue, even to the point where the words became harsher and the love turning to hatred. Catti-brie knew Drizzt had released her, yet her mind did not allow her to accept it, thoroughly convinced that his words had only been spoken in anger and not reason. Though if this was indeed the end, she was more saddened than heartbroken.

And I thought Jarlaxle was going to be more of a problem, she thought with a smile as tears welled from her eyes.

Her ears briefly registered the swing of branches below her; though she did not care what it was. Then, her side vision caught a blue tunic and a shock of blonde hair in the branch a few inches above hers. She turned her head slowly and was now facing Innovindil, who sat side-saddle on her perch, her golden hair swinging down as her angled face gave a bright smile in greeting. She almost looked like a little girl at play, an image that made Catti-brie's weak smile widen.

"I will only say hello," Innovindil said. "I will not ask how your night has been going."

"Did Drizzt return to the party?" Catti-brie asked, her voice still weak.

Innovindil nodded.

"He is making the poorest attempt at acting social I have ever seen," the moon elf replied.

Catti-brie sighed, though never took her tired gaze from Innovindil.

"We had a little fight," Catti-brie said.

"Oh," Innovindil replied, feeling her stomach burn. "I will leave you to your thoughts."

She was about to hop from her perch onto the lower branch, until a small, yet strong hand clasped her arm.

"Please stay," Catti-brie said.

Innovindil stared into Catti-brie's blue eyes and saw nothing but sadness. She nodded and returned to her original position.

"I am not mad at you, Innovindil," Catti-brie continued. "I never was. Nor am I mad at Drizzt, not anymore at least. What happened last year happened and I don't give a damn about the reasons."

"I am not proud of what happened between Drizzt and me, Catti-brie," Innovindil replied, trying to find strength in her voice. "I never intended to hurt you or to claim Drizzt for myself. To this day I don't know what happened between us."

"You were just caught in the moment," Catti-brie said. "Two elves under the stars on a beautiful Midsummer's Eve; it was only inevitable."

"Passion is a great enigma. We can try to define what we want by our reason, yet our hearts and bodies rule themselves no matter how often we can think otherwise."

Catti-brie paused and gazed back at the moon, allowing Innovindil's words to fully sink in. She leaned her head back and gave a few breathy sobs, feeling her face become hot as tears streamed down.

"Once upon a time, there were ways I was supposed to do things," Catti-brie said, her voice a mass of sobs and her thoughts a mass of tangled emotions. "I was supposed to marry Wulfgar; have a beautiful wedding, a hoard of mighty children, and die in his arms as an old woman. I was never supposed to fall in love with a drow; I was never supposed to be thirty-one-years-old and never married. But it all happened anyway, and it was everything I wanted. But now, nothing makes sense."

"You were supposed to have your happy ending, the way it was meant to be, whether with Wulfgar or Drizzt," Innovindil replied. "But matters of the heart never allow themselves to fit into anyone's plans."

Catti-brie's only response was a small sigh before the tears fell harder. She fully gave into the wave of denied emotion that poured from her, leaning her head back against the trunk in a mass of sobs. Innovindil clasped Catti-brie's arm and gently rubbed it, allowing her the perfect moment to let out all her sadness in the company of a caring soul. Gradually, her sobs subsided and she merely lay back and allowed the last tears to flow.

"Catti-brie, what you are supposed to do is be true to yourself," Innovindil said softly, her melodic voice sounding like beautiful music in Catti-brie's aching soul. "I know you have heard too much about how Drizzt may live for centuries while you may live but a few more decades. However, if I knew I had only another seventy years to live, I would live everyday to the absolute fullest; not caring about what anyone else thought. Your small span of years gives you so much freedom, an excuse to savor your time instead of finding a way to pass it."

"I've lived the life of a princess," Catti-brie said, her voice cracking slightly. "Catered to and protected by my father the king and courted by two handsome princes. Dear gods I've met courtly ladies and vowed I would never live in their cages, but it actually happened; I have lived this way for as long as I can remember. I have had so many adventures, been to so many places and fought so many battles, yet I am still just that dwarf princess who's never really allowed herself to really get out of the castle and live."

A smile came over Innovindil's face, recalling how Drizzt had said practically the same thing in his letter.

"How many men have you had, Catti-brie?" she asked, not even believing the word as they left her mouth.

"What?" Catti-brie asked incredulously.

"How many men have you bedded, slept with, allowed inside you, whatever you want to call it? I already know the answer to that and judging by that look you're giving me, the very subject of physical pleasure still makes you uncomfortable."

"Maybe it does," Catti-brie sighed. "Two only; just Wulfgar and Drizzt."

"You last had Wulfgar before he was taken into the Abyss, right?"

Catti-brie nodded.

"So, you're entire record of intimacies consists of two adolescents with no clue as to who they are let alone with whom they should spend their lives."

"You're right about Wulfgar. He was eighteen, like me and just like a little kid when he dealt with me. Drizzt's an elf, though…"

"Elves reach their full adulthood at the close of their first century. Drizzt is seventy-four-years-old. In the span of natural time, he is an adolescent. If you stay with him long enough, you will hear his voice gradually deepsen and he may grow another inch possibly two in height."

Catti-brie paused at the thought. She had never thought of Drizzt as anything but an adult, or even an ageless being that lacked the natural time processes of humans. The thought of Drizzt going through the same phase of physical and emotional awkwardness put a smile on her face and explained so much about him.

"Catti-brie, if you decide to spend your life with another," Innovindil continued, "make absolutely sure this one will be above all others, not just the one you think you should dedicate yourself too."

"So what do you suggest, lay with a bunch of men?" she replied with a stunned laugh.

"There is nothing shameful about pleasuring your body," Innovindil replied, "as long as you do so with the utmost honor for yourself and your partner."

Innovindil leaned down and placed a hand in Catti-brie's thick hair, running her fine fingers through the beautiful auburn locks. Catti-brie allowed her heavy head to lean in the direction of Innovindil's caress, a smile coming over her face as the gentle fingers massaging her scalp relaxed her completely.

"You are a beautiful woman," the moon elf continued. "There are so many handsome men in this land, human and elven alike, who would like nothing more than to treat you like their queen; cater to your every whim and find ways to make every small muscle in your body tremble with the purest ecstasy. If you decide that you would like to spend the rest of your days with one of these men and no other, than you know you have made the right decision."

Catti-brie pondered these words; all of them sounding so true.

"How do I know you are not just saying this to get me away from Drizzt?" she said, regretting the words the second they came out.

"And what if I am?" Innovindil replied with a small laugh. "Would that make my words any less true?"

Catti-brie's smile widened as she gazed up at the moon, feeling the silvery rays caress her flesh and gradually stretch their fingers into her soul. It was the most wonderful feeling she had in too long.

"Just don't be too long in coming back," Innovindil said, gently leaning Catti-brie's head back, leaning down, and placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Innovindil untangled her fingers from that beautiful mane of auburn hair and hopped down from her perch; her nimble feet meeting one branch after another until both her feet landed lightly on the ground. She took one last look at Catti-brie, whose eyes were closed as she basked in the moonlight, before flashing one last smile to the moon and skipping back to the party.

Author's Note: I find this chapter actually coincides with the Midsummer holiday, also known as the Summer Solstice, which ironically also occurred during a full moon. I would like to wish all my readers a very happy Midsummer and best wishes for the new season. Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.


	5. First Strands of Midnight

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

**Chapter 5: First Strands of Midnight**

Drizzt's gaze lingered on the silver-haired moon elf in the white dress standing in front of him with her fair arms outstretched, her melodious singing voice like that of a siren framed perfectly by the tinkling strands of the lute strummed thoughtfully by the lord with black, braided hair who stood to her left and slightly swayed with the rhythm. The other elves surrounding the chanteuse also watched her with great interest, while others closed their eyes and simply let themselves be swept away by the lilting harmonies. Drizzt, however, could not be as easily swayed as he was weighted down by so many different, stifling thoughts and emotions.

The fight with Catti-brie replayed itself over and over again in his mind, though he tried desperately to push it out. It was over at last, a reality he was both willing and terrified to accept. The facts were too overwhelming for him right now, so he drank in every distraction he could find to keep from completely collapsing into tears.

Unfortunately, he only distractions he had was this beautiful melody and the growing uneasiness in his stomach formed by too many things that had already occurred that night. He managed a smile and a small bow to the singer, who he knew deserved a more fitting greeting, before pacing away and letting his heavy eyes fall on an elf clad in bright green; his pantaloons ballooned at the thighs and shoulders and his normally fare face covered in a thick layer of powder as a large, green grin was painted on his lips in the same, flowing lines those around his eyes. His nimble hands tossed around four gold and silver pins about the length of the average wand, though these were thick enough for the perfect hold.

Drizzt's eyes closely followed the regular, circular rhythm of the pins like a cat would a swinging string, a comparison that made his frown straighten slightly as he was now directly to the side of the juggler. The nimble elven juggler flipped up his pins at different angles and heights, even jumping up a few times and letting a few pins go through his legs, where he would turn around and catch them, his rhythm perfect. Drizzt eventually managed a smile at this rather lively sight, temporarily letting his mind wander from his troubling thoughts.

The juggler gave him a brief glance before turning his blue-gold eyes back to his pins. His fleeting gaze fell back to Drizzt, his small smile the only warning before a gold pin was flung in the drow's direction. With a laugh, Drizzt's nimble hand caught the pin and tossed it back, only for a silver one to come at him, then a gold one. Drizzt and the juggler repositioned themselves so they were facing one another, tossing the pins back and forth with increasing speed and never missing a beat. Drizzt's smile widened as his own fleeting glance saw more of a crowd gathering around this spectacle and all were laughing cheerily.

Drizzt let go of himself in this simple movement, keeping his attention to the whirring pins and not to his painful thoughts. After another minute, the juggler nodded, motioning for him to toss the pins back in his direction. Drizzt obliged, flinging one pin, then the others to the juggler, who caught each and tossed them around for a few seconds more before holding the pins high and bowing low to a hail of cheers. The juggler gave Drizzt a wink, and then motioned the pins towards the drow, who gave his own low bow.

The juggler walked off to the refreshment table while a few elves gave Drizzt a few claps and pats on the shoulder. He accepted the praise heartily, feeling his mood lighten considerably, the simple exercise making his momentary nausea fade away while giving him an opportunity to play a little. He gave a clearing sigh and let his gaze focus back on the crowd.

"Maybe you have another career option, Master Drizzt," a soft voice said from behind him.

His bliss fell down to his stomach with a heavy thud. Drizzt paused for a second as he tried to gather any appropriate words for Innovindil, yet her breaths were heavy and he could feel her behind him, the grass brushing softly with her nervous shifting.

"So you've decided to pretend I exist?" he asked, not knowing whether to be glad for her presence or annoyed with her for every other reason in the universe at that moment.

She gave a painful sigh that reverberated through Drizzt's exceedingly sensitive being.

"I haven't been very accommodating to my guests tonight," she said in tone that was a cross between nervous and hurt.

Yet none of it was helping Drizzt at all right now. He felt the tightness return in his stomach as Innovindil's sweet breath blew against his shoulder and her toe nervously rubbed his calf.

"Did you get my letter?" he asked at last, finally willing to have this whole thing out and over with.

"I have," she replied cautiously, followed by heavier breaths and more shifting as the only noise in this uncomfortable pause.

"Did anything I say strike you as true?" he said, his tone becoming more annoyed.

"Every word written." she said, a small crack coming in her voice. "Every scratch and every flow of your handwriting was nothing but what was completely true in my heart. Have you gained the habit of reading minds, Drizzt Do'Urden?"

"Every word?" he asked, his voice slightly more strained as he continued to regard passing guests in the crowd.

"I have no regrets," Innovindil replied more forcefully. "There, I've said it. I absolutely loved our moment together. You… were wonderful."

Drizzt allowed himself to relax slightly, though he did not let his emotional guard down at all.

"I know, this entire evening has just been nothing but one awkward moment after another," he said with a chuckle, though his tone was closer to dead serious. "I am tired of these games Innovindil."

"And you want absolutely nothing but the truth," she replied, a small smile sneaking onto her fair face as a wave of relief came over her. "Dear gods here I am, the one who has taken it upon herself to educate you on yourself, only to be shackled by my own emotions."

"So, do you know what it is what it is to be an elf, Innovindil?" he asked sarcastically.

"To be an elf is to be alive," she replied, "those words were yours once, not mine."

"Touché," he muttered letting his eyes focus on the distant trees.

"I had a talk with Catti-brie before coming here," she said.

"You did, what did she say?" Drizzt asked, feeling the tightness in his stomach growing.

"That neither of you know who you are, let alone who each other is at all."

"And what about you?"

"Age does not necessarily equal instant wisdom. Just talk to Nialian and I am sure he has so many stories to tell."

"So all of us are just trying to figure ourselves out?"

"Understand our true intentions, perhaps."

"So tell me, Innovindil, what exactly are your true intentions?"

He heard another painful sigh as her small feet shifted in the grass with more the grace of a nervous woman that an elven maiden. He braced himself for any response he might get…but wasn't prepared for the sensation of a delicate finger slowly tracing down the length of his spine, pressing further between his buttocks before a hand firmly clasped the sensitive flesh between his legs.

At first he was startled by this rather blunt move, and then he allowed himself to feel her small hand closing gently as her fingers showed more confidence. Drizzt exhaled deeply, his body growing warmer as his phallus tightened in response with gentle, passionate anticipation. It was an act of pure spontaneity, beautiful in its frank honesty. Innovindil was no longer holding back her emotions behind a polite screen, which made this act all the more wonderful.

All Drizzt could do now was let himself go and fully give himself to her touch

"I think this says everything," she whispered in his ear, tightening her grip slightly to the point where Drizzt gave a slight sigh, feeling the warm tightness becoming almost unbearable.

He reached an ebony hand behind his back and gently pried Innovindil's fingers loose, gently lifting that small, delicate hand up as he turned to face her. His weary eyes were then greeted by that beautiful, snow white face framed by those glowing, golden locks. He brought the back of her hand to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles, and feeling her tremble slightly, yet maintaining her composure.

"I say we continue this discussion in a less public area," he said with a smile. "Though the real question is who shall lead."

Innovindil's small smile widened. She broke her hand free of Drizzt's grasp, only to clutch it and pull him away. Drizzt shot her a mischievous glance before she turned her head and skipped off into the woods away from the party, with him trailing close being and trying to keep up with her step.

Drizzt met her skip, feeling absolutely giddy as he leapt over fallen branches and brambled roots as Innovindil's hand clasped his tightly. In the midst of this happy moment, a few flickering thoughts about Catti-brie floated through his mind: Catti-brie his old love, Catti-brie the woman he yearned for in silence for years, Catti-brie the woman he shared his body with for the first time; Catti-brie who showed him nothing but silent distrust for the past year, Catti-brie who had used this night as a final excuse for leaving aboard _The Sea Sprite_. With a shake of his head, he allowed his mind to clear as he focused on the path ahead, those tumbling golden locks and the growing urgency in his trousers and, for the first time, not feeling guilty about any of it.

He barely noticed how long they had been sprinting, but Innovindil suddenly stopped in a bright clearing through which a small stream flowed. Blue-green grass and soft, blue moss covered the area and lined the stones on the banking; the green leaves and quartz composition of the rocks glowed with the high moon flooding through the trees and bathing everything in its path with beautiful light and color.

Drizzt was completely in awe at this sight, letting his lavender orbs drink in the beauty of the grass, the trees, the river, and the stunning elf who let go of his hand and skipped towards the stream. Her pace was slow, almost like she was dancing to her own music…or maybe the waves of lute plucks and flute calls through the trees that escaped the part and decided to join them in this beautiful place.

Innovindil stepped lightly towards the swift stream, hopping on one foot to pull off one brown leather boot and throw it into the high grass, before hopping onto her bare foot, pulling the other one off and throwing it in the same direction, the boot landing directly on top of the other. Her small, bare feet then lightly plunged into the shallow water and kicked around, splashing her with the cool, wet tingle. Drizzt stood and watched her, before coming on one foot and pulling off his own black boot, throwing it to the side and trading his position to remove the other as well.

Innovindil then turned and regarded Drizzt with a look of pure mischief, continuing her dance as her hands rose in the air then lowered, her fingers clasping the bottom of her tunic, and slowly pulling the garment over her head. Drizzt fixed his gaze, first seeing that tightly muscled stomach, then her delicate ribs, then her small, supple breasts as the blue tunic covered her face for a second before being completely removed and tossed on the grass. She flexed the well-toned muscles in her arms and abdomen, showing every sinew in all its perfectly sculpted beauty, her white skin glowing in the moonlight.

With his own, fluid motion, he slowly grasped the bottom of his own, brown shirt and slowly peeled it off as well before flinging it beside hers. Drizzt's delicate fingers found their way to his belt, which he slowly unbuckled, removed, and gently placed on the grass with a clink.

Innovindil jumped out of the water and onto the banking in one leap, heavily leaning against a tree and running her fingers down the center of her chest, then her abdomen, and finally reaching her trouser strings. Drizzt watched intently as she slowly undid the small bow, and then loosened the string with her middle finger sliding through and pulling. Her graceful hands then reached her hips and she slowly slid her trousers down to the ground before stepping out of them.

Drizzt stood in another moment of awe as he savored the sight of her beautiful, naked form, feeling his own hands reach his trouser strings and undo them in haste. Innovindil then stretched out her left index finger in a sinuous motion of beckoning. He practically jumped as he walked towards her and was immediately greeted by outstretched arms locking him in a tight hold.

She pushed her lips hard against his. Drizzt joined in with just as much gusto, opening his mouth and feeling her tongue dip inside and dance with his. All he concentrated on was running his sensitive hands all over her bare form, first on her soft shoulders, then her muscular back, then gently caressing her well-toned buttocks. Innovindil ran her hands over his tightly muscled chest; her fingertips gently pinching his nipples enough to fill him with complete ecstasy. Her hands then caressed downwards, until her fingers reached his trouser strings and fully loosened them, sliding the black leather down as he kicked them off. His lips pulled away from her mouth and lightly brushed down her jaw, then her neck; his light caress drawing a small sigh.

"I want you to show me exactly who you are, Drizzt Do'Urden," she whispered in his ear, a delicate hand reaching down and wrapping around his desperate flesh while she gently nibbled the pointed tip of his left ear

He let out a breathy moan as his consciousness now registered the press in the edge of his mind; a feeling he had only known before in combat. It was his pure, instinctual nature slowly coming loose in his soul; only this time the Hunter did not want to kill, but mate. It was a sensation that completely frightened him, yet he knew the Hunter was still within his control and only could serve a good purpose now.

He had the urge to leap on her, yet she was already down on her knees, so he simply pushed her back down to the ground while running his hands over her fair shoulders, gently clasping those small, soft breasts, and running his fingertips down the length of her tightly muscled stomach as one finger reached the sensitive flesh between her legs.

Innovindil clasped his shoulders and gently lay her head against the ground, her soft hair pressed against the grass as closed her eyes and spread her legs open. It was a second of tense anticipation, but she sighed hard with the first entry. The first rush was painful, showing he was definitely desperate, though he soon he took his rhythm and the miniscule amount of discomfort erupted into the blissful warmth that filled every last part of her being. She laughed aloud in triumph, her fingers caressing his back, though the rush of his warm thrust caused her to dig her fingernails into his skin. She knew she was pressing too hard, but the steadily rising rush from her loins through her body made her only focus on the inside of her eyelids, though she would occasionally look up to see his face twisted into a look of raw emotion; that handsome ebony visage framed by a wild mane of white hair that would dip down and tickle her shoulders.

Drizzt allowed himself to be completely taken by the wave, locking out all thoughts and lingering emotions as he clasped her shoulders tightly and focused his movements towards a higher passion. It was a dance he took with gusto, the dance of a dead man learning to live again; a wraith reclaiming his long neglected flesh and being born again into a grand celebration. He focused and let the Hunter come out, prodded on by the blissful sting in his back from Innovindil's fingernails as she clutched onto him like a hawk on a mouse, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him in deeper.

Nothing mattered to him but the violent rush of blood through every part of his body; first through the area of his phallus and creeping upwards through every part of his being until all he registered was the sensation of being pulled through another dimension though he remained in that plane. His frenzied mind registered a loud moan from Innovindil's lips that resembled a scream as her body grew even warmer and began to pulse, though she only tightened her grasp on his shoulders, digging her nails in harder to the point where her fingertips became slick with a liquid thicker than perspiration. Her legs loosened slightly, though resumed their position with even more force until they were practically pulling him into the grass where the only option he had was to strengthen his thrust.

Soon all he regarded was the rising heat as he was pulled further and further into his trance. He then let out a loud, animalistic scream as the final release rushed forth and the blood rushed through. Drizzt gave a loud sigh, taking a second to regain his focus before withdrawing and flopping down on the ground, ignoring the stray twig that poked into his side and the lingering burn in his back from Innovindil's own moment of ecstasy. His lavender orbs focused on the moon as the blinding rush subsided, leaving with the purest sensation of bliss; a feeling he had never known in his entire life. He simply let his head press back into the grass as a wave of delighted chuckles poured from his body as he felt completely free for the first time in his life.

His laughs then subsided as he gained more of his bearings. With one final sigh, he turned his head and saw Innovindil laying on her side and barely moving. His ecstasy turned into a brief panic as he came to a sitting position which gave a slight twinge through his aching side. Drizzt gently laid a hand on her shoulder and saw many red marks across the porcelain skin that would likely turn into bruises. He flinched at the sight; the Hunter had gone too far. He only hoped he had not injured her in this moment of abandon.

His other hand gently clasped her shoulder as he leaned forward to fully determine her condition. A small hand then shot up and clasped his long, white hair, hard, setting a sting through his scalp as Innovindil pulled him down and planted a hard kiss on his lips. She pulled him back slightly, fully exposing an expression of complete joy.

"Drizzt Do'Urden," she said, her voice breathy, "I first knew an intimate touch three hundred twenty years ago, and you are the first man I have had in that long time who has made me describe the experience as absolutely divine."

Drizzt paused; registering the words, then smiled and gave a hearty laugh. He leaned in and kissed her again, savoring her lips and gently embracing her. She burrowed herself into his grasp, resting her head against his chest and inhaling the aroma of his sweet body. He gladly wrapped his arms around her small form and pressed his face into her soft hair.

"So, are you up for a second round?" she cooed, looking up at him and lapping his chin like a gleeful cat.

"Just give me a second," he said, kissing the top of her head.

Soon, Innovindil's lips found his chest and began kissing that soft, ebony flesh. Drizzt felt the tightness returning and gave a laugh.

"And that second is over," he said, just before Innovindil rolled him onto the ground and positioned over him.

"Are you sure?" she asked, winking and slowly lowering herself.

Drizzt nodded and she lowered completely. Innovindil pushed his shoulders into the grass and thrusted her hips, fully taking in his flesh with a small, yet ecstatic sigh that joined with Drizzt's sudden cry.

Their sighs and moans rose, though no one else was around to hear…except for the red haired woman who cautiously approached the area of the joyful noise. Catti-brie had been perched in her tree when she heard the unmistakable sounds of a man and a woman in the throes of passion. She leapt down to investigate, knowing she should leave both lovers to their blissful business, though her curiosity got the best of her.

As she walked closer, both melodic voices were completely familiar; Drizzt was yet again in the arms of Innovindil, though she stopped caring entirely. It was a moot point for her now. Her logic told her to flee, go either back to the party to celebrate her final freedom, or back into Mithril Hall, where orcs would feel her final wrath. Instead she crept closer, making sure she kept enough of a distance so both pairs of keen ears would not hear her between their screams. She eventually stopped at the based of a large oak tree she knew was just a few hundred feed away from them. Catti-brie continued listening to the cries, which steadily became louder. She leaned her back against the tree, allowing herself to fade in the heavy, summer brush as her ears drank in the sounds of passion.

For some reason, these cries were sending waves through her sensitive being, making her feel warm. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the bark, allowing her hand to run through her hair then over her face and over her shoulder, pulling the shoulder of her tunic aside slightly so she could feel the skin underneath. She smiled, and then opened her eyes to look around and make sure no one else was in the area.

"I need to free myself anyway," she muttered to herself with a grin, before taking another look around.

With a small laugh, she gently ran her hand over her breast and then allowed it to trail down as the sighs and moans grew louder.

Author's Note: This was my first real attempt at writing a scene like this, so any feedback on how it actually came out is greatly appreciated.

My fellow Americans (sorry, I had to say that): have a happy Independence Day. Enjoy some fireworks and try not to eat too much ice cream and fried dough…wait, what am I saying.


	6. Midnight

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

**Chapter 6: Midnight**

It was a soft melody that echoed off the trees and flowed through the soft, warm breeze like a part of the air. The voices of the two elves were music to Catti-brie's ears; every breathy sigh, every passioned moan, and every scream like a dove's cry flew through the trees and filled her entire being with a tingling heat. She laid her head against the coarse, ancient bark of the oak, her thick, auburn hair acting as almost a cushion. The rest of her back reclined against the trunk, though her legs were spread apart and bracing her on the ground, allowing her plenty of stability and room for her loins to savor every stroke of her small fingers as the tingle coursed through. Her pace quickened, though her body remained still, though her stomach and back muscles slightly rippling.

As the volume of the elves' passion increased, so did the warmth and tightness through her own form. She knew the male voice belonged to Drizzt, her old love, and the other belonged to Innovindil, her good friend, yet this did not bother her in the least. In fact the forbidden nature of this affair seemed to entice her even more. Occasionally, she would open her eyes and look around. There was always a possibility that some passing elven hunter could pass by and catch her in her middle of this rather intimate act; a possibility that fueled her passion more. She kept her eyes wide open as her strokes became stronger and she allowed her lungs to release a loud sigh. Catti-brie had played safe her entire life and she now realized she was tired of this cautious complacency; it was time to court danger in some matter in her life other than battle.

The heat rose; as did her sighs as well as the elves' moans and screams. A pulse rippled through her lower muscles as the rush set in. Catti-brie let out a small cry and doubled over, allowing her body to carry out its natural pleasure as she savored the tingling light-headedness. At last, she drew her hand out of her black leather trousers, flexed upwards so her back was against the trunk, and gently let her legs give out so she ended up in a sitting position; her legs spread out in front of her as her auburn hair cushioned her buzzing head against the hard bark. With a happy laugh, she closed her blue eyes and listened carefully as Drizzt let out a series of loud moans that resembled screams while Innovindil merely ended with a few sighs and a shrill, airy cackle.

Catti-brie could not here them any more, their pleasured silence concealed by the chirping of birds and the distant hum of pan pipes. She took a few deep breathes and savored the lingering rush, wondering why she had never done anything like that before. It was an act of pleasuring her body, yet she was in full control and knowing exactly which of her parts would react when touched where. Wulfgar and Drizzt, while fabulous lovers, would never be as skilled in their efforts as she was with her own body.

Catti-brie gave another airy laugh as she listened to the distant pipes…and the new echoes of Innovindil's sigh. Apparently they decided to have another go. Drizzt must indeed have the stamina, she thought. After all, he is very young; only an adolescent just beginning to appreciate pleasures of the flesh. Catti-brie closed her eyes again and savored the increasing sighs and moans, feeling her loins tighten as the urge grew again. In instinct, she began reaching the same hand into her trousers, only to stop the second her knuckles reached the top of the belt. The feeling was desperation, but this wasn't the way to satisfy her craving. It was merely a small sliver of deer meat when she was hungry enough for the whole buck; the smallest bit would only make her hungrier.

With a loud groan, she picked herself up off the ground and came to her feet, steadying herself for a second while lingering a second to hear the moans growing louder. With a lingering shiver, she walked away from that tree back in the direction of the village with a definite goal in mind; she would go back to the party and find a nice, amorous elven lord who would be perfectly willing to satisfy a maiden's needs on that Midsummer's Eve. She could probably find the mage…whatever his name was, or maybe another gentleman, like that handsome, black-haired lute player. The only problem was trying to convince him to ignore the entire idea of Drizzt.

Catti-brie plotted her course as she meandered through the wood, keeping in mind the general direction of the party yet not being in too much focus to follow the immediate path. The sound of Drizzt and Innovindil's moans, which were now breathy yells, gradually faded as her ears trained on the sounds of running water, pan pipes, and…Jarlaxle's shrill laugh?

On reflex, Catti-brie ducked into the brush and looked out in the direction of the noise. The Midsummer brush may have been heavy, yet the sight of that bald, onyx head stuck out through the green. Keeping her cover in the thick foliage, she carefully stepped closer and got a better look at the dark elf, who sat down in a small clearing, reclining against a mossy rock while; his ebony hands were behind his head and his face was locked in that usual grin. She took a better look at the clearing to see a small, black tea kettle set on a blue flame that seemed to come from the grass as its contents steamed. Standing over the kettle was Nialian, whose silver hair almost obscured his lined face, which was turned towards Jarlaxle and wearing a look of complete happiness. Both were talking in Elven and laughing heartily, though she could hardly hear the conversation.

Catti-brie's eyes fixed on Jarlaxle; a sight painful at first but one on which she forced her gaze. She had lived in absolute hatred of this man for so many reasons, though she was tired of holding this ancient grudge for no apparent reason. Maybe this moment would give her perfect reason to despise him once more, yet maybe she could learn to view him as more of a neutral presence. While Drizzt had come to some kind of understanding about the mercenary despite nearly losing his life by his last arrangement, Catti-brie was still not as impressed.

While much of her anger had to do with the horrible incident in Cryshal-Tirith, her most fiery rage came from recollections of her moment as his captive in Menzoberranzan. She remembered sitting in a chair in Bregan D'aerthe headquarters; Jarlaxle running his small fingers through her hair as if almost petting her while she sat in absolute terror, waiting for her death or defilement as she imagined Drizzt suffering unspeakable horrors in the dungeons of House Baenre. The worse never happened in any case, she recalled with a small sigh of relief as she stared at Jarlaxle, taking in his widened grin and hearty laugh at a comment Nialian made about something she had not heard. He did actually treat her with the utmost respect all the while arranging their escape.

I should be thanking him, she thought, not despising him.

Nialian took the kettle off the magic flame and produced two clay cups from his robes, handing one to Jarlaxle and sitting down close beside him. The old priest poured the kettle into Jarlaxle's mug, a brownish liquid with a pretty, orange essence that wafted to her location. Nialian poured some into his own mug and leaned forward to put the kettle back on the blue flame. He then leaned back against the wide boulder, his shoulder almost reclining on Jarlaxle's. Catti-brie craned her neck to get a better listen to the conversation, yet she could not hear much without moving forward and possibly alerting her location; though that was not going to stop her. She took a cautious step forward, still keeping herself concealed in the brush while able to make out the words distinctly.

"Do you ever think that companion of yours will master the dragon's flute?" Nialian asked with a laugh.

"Well, enough to make the sound a little less painful," Jarlaxle replied. "Even after three years, that thing still eludes him, though our employers just keep prodding him along. Perhaps he could take some lessons from you."

"Yes, I am sure this prickly bastard would be willing to come here and sit down for music lessons with an old elf."

"He has actually relaxed quite a bit. I can almost imagine he allowed his nurse in Cormyr to tuck him in."

"Though how well was he dealing with those charming little bug bears?"

"I am sure they warmed up to each other. Maybe he is not snarling at them as much."

"Of course you are rushing through that portal back to him," Nialian said with a laugh.

"No, Master Artemis is capable of caring for himself. Besides, it was good to get out for a while and enjoy some…old company."

Nialian laughed again and leaned his head against Jarlaxle's chest. Jarlaxle ran his fingers through Nialian's silver hair; just like he did with her, Catti-brie recalled. She sat in absolute awe of this beautiful, comfortable moment. She got the impression that both of them had been good friends at some point in time. Maybe that was the reason her was here now, only his entrance was not the grand display he originally intended. Jarlaxle stroked Nialian's hair as a wide smile formed on the priest's face; a pure look of happiness. Maybe that was Jarlaxle's way of being affectionate, not maliciously so, but in general.

The two elves remained quiet. Catti-brie's gaze never left Jarlaxle. He was without that grand, plumed hat and jeweled eye patch. He was clad in a plain, yet elegant, white shirt and black leather trousers, a simple enough outfit that was nothing compared to that high cut vest he wore on every other occasion in which she had seen him. The drow was even without his many pieces of jewelry, even his earlobes were adorned with small holes where gold earrings had once been. He was like a prince outside his palace; the gold and plumed façade had been peeled off to now reveal the simple flesh and blood underneath. It was a sight that fascinated Catti-brie; she could clearly see that soft, bald head and long pointed ears typical of any elf regardless of skin color. His white eyebrows seemed to have a higher arch than other elves, giving him an almost aristocratic visage. The most astounding sight was that both his bright, ruby eyes were visible; pools of red that illuminated in the moonlight.

He is actually quite handsome, she thought to herself, letting her eyes trail over his small, ebony neck and down to the partially opened shirt, getting at good a look as she could at the exposed flesh and taut muscle underneath. She then caught herself wishing that shirt was opened just a few buttons more.

Jarlaxle put his head down and rested it in Nialian's hair, turning his face in slightly and kissing the top of his head. Nialian turned his gaze up, both eyes gazing into each other before both leaned in and locked their lips in a passioned, yet tender kiss. Catti-brie registered a small squeak coming from her throat as her eyes widened at the sight of Jarlaxle and Nialian's kiss. She had seen passionate gestures between two men before in her travels, though the sight of two men she knew exchanging kisses was positively…exciting.

The kiss deepened and both mouths were open, both tongues dancing softly. Jarlaxle's hand continued caressing Nialian's hair and gradually found its way down to his thin shoulder, gently pulling him in further. Both of Nialian's hands crept to Jarlaxle's shoulders, one trailing down and caressing the exposed flesh on his chest. Jarlaxle's hand move down from its position on his partner's shoulder, caressing his back, then forward to his chest, and gradually moving downward. Catti-brie felt her loins tighten, her gaze mostly focused on Jarlaxle, who opened his eyes slightly in a look of blissful peace as a small sigh came from his thin lips. He no longer looked like the evil, scheming monster but another elf savoring simple passion. It was indeed a beautiful sight.

Nialian then froze, gradually pulling back from Jarlaxle's kiss; his face was now dead serious and slightly sad. Jarlaxle recognized his partners cease and slowly opened his eyes in a look of incredulity.

"It cannot be like this," Nialian said with a small shake of the head.

"Like the way it was?" Jarlaxle replied, his voice calm but with a hint of anger.

"Like the way it was three hundred fifty years ago, Jarlaxle," Nialian replied sadly. "I am not the spry man you remembered and we would only be trying to capture an ancient moment."

Jarlaxle's face twisted into a look of building rage, though his eyes remained wide in surprise. Nialian gave him a steady, serious gaze, readying himself for what the drow may do next. Catti-brie crept further into the brush, a hand coming to the hilt of her sword. Jarlaxle's gaze then softened slightly to one of deep hurt.

"I…understand, Nialian," he said softly, his voice taking a slight crack as he pulled back, removing his hands from Nialian's shoulders.

Nialian relaxed, managing a sad smile. Jarlaxle turned around and gave a long sigh. The two sat in an uncomfortable silence for a small while, both looking away as they trained their emotions and got in control of themselves.

"It appears your tea had an extra effect on me," Jarlaxle said with a strained laugh. "Would I be in much danger if I took care of some natural business in the woods?"

Nialian gave a small chuckle as he reached into his robe and pulled out a green jeweled ring. The old priest closed his eyes for a second as he whispered a series of magical phrases. The ring glowed for a second before fading to its natural silvery luster.

"Consider this a gift," Nialian said, handing the ring to Jarlaxle, who took it cautiously while examining the carved band. "As long as you are in this area, it will conceal your aura. If you run into any trouble, just tap the stone three times and I will appear at your location."

"As long as I am in this area?" Jarlaxle asked, making a miserable attempt at sounding polite.

"As long as you are within five hundred feet of me. If you venture further, all its properties fade and you are on your own."

"Why Nialian, are you giving me a little free rein?"

"I have to return to the village and I don't think you want to spend the night locked up in that stuffy cabin."

"So you trust me to be on my best behavior?"

Nialian slowly raised, his weak legs giving the effort to bring him to a stand.

"Perhaps I do," the priest said with a small smile.

He then bowed low and started walking to the village. Nialian then stopped and turned around to face Jarlaxle, who still sat in the grass staring at him.

"This is a night of celebration, Jarlaxle," he said. "And we will celebrate our happiness side by side this Midsummer."

"Of course we will, old friend," Jarlaxle replied, though his voice was still strained.

Nialian gave him one last sad look before slowly turning around and pacing into the woods.

Jarlaxle's gaze followed him until the frail form was no longer in sight. He then gave another long sigh and put his head in his hands. Catti-brie saw his hands were shaking and he tried almost desperately to regain his composure. He did not merely look like a man who was denied physical pleasure but a man with a broken heart. She even swore she saw a small tear come from one of his red eyes before being brushed away like it was an annoying speck.

This was yet another sight that completely drew her in. Catti-brie was used to seeing Jarlaxle so cool and cocky, only expressing his emotions in glares and icy words. She had no idea he was even capable of showing any emotions at all, nor did he even have a heart to break. Catti-brie truly knew she was seeing this creature in his purest form; a man and not a monster.

Jarlaxle gave another sigh before rising and ambling towards the woods; right in her direction. Catti-brie hastily stepped away, trying not to rustle too many leaves or break any branches as Jarlaxle stepped forward. He then stopped at the tree line and then lowered his hands to his trouser strings. Catti-brie's eyes widened as he casually undid the strings and pulled his phallus from the leather, though it was obvious soon enough that he wasn't lying to Nialian about the effects of the tea.

Catti-brie averted her gaze, but a nagging curiosity overcame her once again. She slowly raised her eyes and allowed her gaze to fall on Jarlaxle's truly exposed form. He was quite well endowed, she noted. The same was true for Drizzt as well; making her wonder if all drow males were so…gifted. She remembered being twelve and walking through the woods only to find Wulfgar doing his business outside the caves; she would also try to focus on returning home while not being able to resist a look at his "naughty parts" as some of the village women referred to that part of the anatomy. It was a recollection that drew an involuntary giggle, which she hastily stifled.

Jarlaxle gave a long, relieved groan as he finished his natural process, though he kept his grip for a second; his desire was far from sated, yet his pride ached slightly at the thought of this lover of thousands of men and women not being able to carry this out with a partner. Pride be damned, he thought, knowing he would be extremely uncomfortable for the rest of the evening if this wasn't truly finished.

Catti-brie gave a sharp intake of breath as she saw his head fall back and his grip tighten, then his hand move. She stood in complete awe and felt her own loins tighten once again. She lost all sense of her surroundings while caught in this moment; watching this beautiful elf in such an intimate act.

Her legs began to ache from their locked position. She moved her right leg slightly, only to rub against a sharp branch. She gave a sudden cry with the small sting, and then clamped her hand over her mouth, though she was too late. Jarlaxle hastily shoved himself back in his trousers while looking around. Catti-brie sunk into the brush, glad that Jarlaxle's eyes were not falling in her direction. He then subtly stretched out his hand in a sweeping gesture. Catti-brie then jumped back as she was covered in cool, purple flames. The sight was disturbing at first, yet she knew that this was merely Faerie Fire; Drizzt used it quite regularly to…outline certain forms and make them readily visible.

Catti-brie then looked up to see Jarlaxle standing a few feet away from her; his trousers restrung and his face locked at hers with a polite smile.

"Well, good evening, Lady Catti-brie," he said in a sweet, yet annoyed tone. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"


	7. Fading Midnight

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

**Chapter 7: Fading Midnight**

Catti-brie stood dumfounded at first, her tongue frozen with the surprise at being caught; though she slowly realized that fear was not the first feeling that came to mind. She let the momentary shock fade and looked directly into his red eyes, steeling herself and not flinching. Jarlaxle stood still and returned her gaze, his slender hands coming to his hips while giving her a look of irritated anticipation.

"I see you have your memory back," she said, her voice as calm and sweet as possible.

"Yes, all my wonderful memories are back thanks to your cleric friend," he replied. "I even recall our pleasant first meeting tonight. So tell me, Catti-brie, are you lying in wait for your perfect opportunity to, as you so charmingly put it: 'Punch me so hard teeth come out my arse?'"

Jarlaxle said these last few words in his usual eloquent delivery while adding in some twangs of a dwarven accent. Catti-brie let out an involuntary giggle, and then clamped her hand over her mouth. Jarlaxle's long mouth turned up in a smug smirk, though his hands stayed on his hips and he tapped his foot slightly. The purple flames then faded and gradually disappeared. Catti-brie allowed herself a small sigh, feeling relieved at the fading of this rather unnerving illusion. Jarlaxle barely blinked, his eyes still locked on Catti-brie waiting for an answer.

"I was rather surprised to see you here," Catti-brie replied, trying to straighten her visage though her childish smirk seemed almost carved on her face. "You have to admit our last parting was not on the best of terms."

"Well, I cannot blame you for that, I guess," he said with a small nod in deference. "Though I am pleased to say Master Drizzt and I left that…tower on a rather friendly note. It's funny actually; I'm not hearing you ask me whether the Shard is still in my possession."

"Ivan Bouldershoulder told us the whole story after the war ended," she replied. "You and that companion of yours made quite an impression."

"I am not even going to comment on what kind of an impression that may be, especially to lovely Danica, yet I am happy to say that little escapade is ancient history. You are brave for mentioning that here because my companion still becomes rather irate when that subject is mentioned."

"Fortunate for me that your companion is in Cormyr," Catti-brie replied, immediately cringing at the words.

Jarlaxle raised his fine eyebrows again, an expression that Catti-brie thought added to his aristocratic visage.

"Now where in the world would you get that idea?" he said.

Catti-brie knew she could give no response to this, only strengthening her gaze. Jarlaxle gave a long, understanding nod, his mouth turning up in a creeping grin.

"Has the little Cat been snooping around?" he asked, raising his hand and swinging his index finger slowly in a scolding motion. "She peaks too much into the fireplace; her precious little nose may get burned off."

"Fine, I was admiring the beauty of the forest when I saw a hint of you in the brush."

"Just staring at the moon or hoping to get a glimpse into the mating habits of elves?"

"Mating habits? What in the Hells…"

"Save it. Don't take this too harshly, but you are a pathetic liar. I believe you need to work on your skills a little. You have been watching me the whole time haven't you?"

"Fine, maybe I have. Though I cannot say I am shocked by anything. You and Nialian make a positively lovely couple. "

Jarlaxle grimaced slightly and Catti-brie knew she had just hit a raw nerve.

"That matter, quite frankly, is none of your business," he replied calmly, "though I am not upset. We were in a rather public area."

Catti-brie gave another involuntary chuckle at all the many meanings this one statement had. Jarlaxle gave a small nod in humility, knowing he had dug the proverbial hole deeper.

"By the way, where is Master Drizzt," Jarlaxle said, rapidly trying to change the subject, "I would so like to speak with him."

Catti-brie's own slight flinch told Jarlaxle everything, and she was aware of that. Jarlaxle nodded.

"As my companion is rather fond of saying, 'you should learn to hide your emotions better.'"

Catti-brie shot him a deadly glare and leaned in his face. She only stood a few inches taller than him, yet she straightened her posture and took half a step closer, getting a perfectly clear look at his features while suddenly remembering what Innovindil said earlier about the aging process of elves. The two locked glares, Jarlaxle's gaze perfectly calm, though Catti-brie's eyes shot flames as they concentrated on the fine, chiseled lines around Jarlaxle's mouth and eyes; he was not young, yet the lines seemed more the result of a hard life than anything else. How many centuries have passed over this face, she thought, not knowing whether she wanted to either caress those hardened features or simply drive her fist through them. This braggart would have to be punished somehow, she decided.

Jarlaxle knew he could easily best Catti-brie in battle and stave off any attack, so he merely stood firm and looked into those beautiful, blue eyes while savoring that rich, auburn hair. If only he could put his fingers through it once more.

"Your anger only accentuates your beauty, I must say," Jarlaxle added with a smile, expecting a thrown fist in response.

Catti-brie instead gave him a sneering grin, giving her feature a light hint of cruelty that sent a wonderful shiver down the drow's spine.

"You know, you should hide your emotions better," Catti-brie replied, waving her index finger right in his face.

His sensitive nose caught a subtle, yet unmistakable scent from her finger; the sweet, yet slightly pungent odor of a female's private essence. Catti-brie had obviously been busy, most likely with herself, or possibly with another. It was an odor that made Jarlaxle feel his urgency return slightly.

"Regardless," he said, trying to calm himself down, "I know you were watching us in the brush, and I do not find that very polite. However, I am willing to pretend I never noticed you."

"How very kind. I guess I feel almost honored."

Catti-brie stood back for a second and peered back into Jarlaxle's beautiful red eyes. Jarlaxle also returned the gaze and they both stood in another stifling silence.

Catti-brie didn't know what came over her next; it was merely a series of reactions and pure, raw desire. She reached out and grabbed Jarlaxle's shoulders, pulling him in violently and planting a passionate kiss on those thin, soft lips. Jarlaxle was startled at first, but gave in. He knew she was desperate by the heat that radiated from her body and the sheer urgency. He gently placed a hand on the back of her head, finally tangling his fingers in those fabulous auburn locks and savoring her lips.

Jarlaxle didn't allow himself to think at all, carried away by this moment with a woman he had admired from afar and had now thrown herself in his arms. It was almost too perfect.

Jarlaxle pushed her away roughly. Catti-brie shot him an angry glare while he stood back and gave her a serious look.

"So what are you about?" he asked with a hint of accusation. "Are you looking for an excuse to get Drizzt to kill me at last?"

The look of hurt rage on her face said everything. It was genuine; Jarlaxle knew that much was painfully obvious.

"Do you want to know where Drizzt is, Jarlaxle?" she said calmly, though her voice cracked. "He is in the woods having his third round with a beautiful, moon elf maiden he first laid last Midsummer."

Jarlaxle raised his eyebrows. Was she lying to him? Or maybe Drizzt had finally found a use for his masculine parts besides expelling waste water. It was still too convenient.

"So Catti-brie is now alone," he said evenly, though his mind celebrated all the possibilities. "Are you desperate for some attention or just some flesh?"

Catti-brie glared at him once more and stepped in further to thee point where he could feel her hot breath against his face.

"Just make damn sure you are ready to have someone like me in…such an intimate position," he said, giving her a smirk, almost hoping this gesture would scare her away.

She her hand shot up and violently clasped his jaw, pulling him forward and kissing him again. Jarlaxle clasped her shoulders hard and pulled her in, deepening the kiss roughly. Catti-brie returned with just as much gusto, fully signaling that she was indeed desperate for whatever he had to offer. Catti-brie threw her hands around his bald head and allowed them to trail down his shoulders before reaching his shirt and literally ripping it open, popping abalone buttons and forcing his shoulders back to have the garment off. His body was that of a hardened warrior; his small, elven physique accented by layers of taut, beautiful muscle. Jarlaxle's physique, for some reason, seemed even more hardened than Drizzt's. It wasn't just his muscles either; it was also the way his beautiful obsidian flesh tightly stretched over his form, giving this drow more of a rugged appearance that made him all the more beautiful.

Jarlaxle threw his head back and savored the dull burn of her fingernails raking down his chest, fueling his passion further. He gently moved his own hands down her shoulders in a calmer, gentler manner that accented her desperation perfectly and gradually started to undo her round, wooden buttons. In a second, she leapt on him, though he managed to control her movement and guide himself gently to the ground. Catti-brie was like a wild animal, unstringing his trousers clumsily and pulling them down before removing his boots. Jarlaxle gave out a small laugh as he kicked off his high brown boots and allowed Catti-brie plenty of room to peel his trousers off.

He expected her to remove her own trousers next or even clutch his phallus in her wild abandon. Instead she continued kissing him passionately, her fingers gently caressing his neck, trailing over his jaw, and lightly rubbing the tip of his pointed ear.

Catti-brie knew the tips of elven ears were especially sensitive. Drizzt would become slightly more excited when the tips of his ears were caressed, yet she was not prepared for Jarlaxle's more intense reaction. Jarlaxle threw his head back and gave harsh moan; his grip on her shoulders became tighter and he hastily undid the rest of the buttons on her shirt, finally exposing her muscled physique and ample breasts. He was used to human women having very petite forms, yet he had never had a warrior before; Catti-brie was perfect, a dream indeed come true.

Catti-brie didn't bother taking her shirt off and Jarlaxle was rather pleased at gazing at her bare torso through the panels of a fine tunic. His own small hands came to her trouser strings, which he undid with more gusto as she continued rubbing the tips of his ears. While the wrong pressure could make him flinch, the right could drive him mad. He was glad Catti-brie had some experience with a drow beforehand, yet he knew he could offer her so much more.

His hands then rubbed down her leg and grabbed around her calf, grabbing a firm hold on her worn black boot and pulling it off, guiding her leg out slightly and then moving his hand towards the other one. When that boot was pulled off, his hand caressed her backside, and gently eased his hand between her legs, producing a happy moan as both his hands reached her trousers and gently pulled them down. Catti-brie continued kissing him, though she awkwardly shimmied out of her pants, only increasing the pressure against Jarlaxle's sensitive, exposed flesh, making him even more desperate. At last her trousers were off and she gently straddled his hips.

Catti-brie looked down at the nude dark elf under her. Yes, this wasn't Drizzt. Yes, it was a man capable of great evil; a man she had despised until now. It was all these little facts that ran through her mind as she was close to consummating this act of unchecked passion; making this moment even more perfect. There was no logic in this. Drizzt would be furious and Bruenor and Wulfgar may cast her from their sights…yet Catti-brie didn't care.

She shut out all those thoughts and lowered herself, taking him inside with a moan. At last, she had crossed that forbidden threshold and there was no place to go but down. She positioned her legs and began a gentle thrust. Jarlaxle threw his head on the ground and looked up at her with a gleeful laugh, his hands caressing her soft breasts gently trailing down, positioning on her hips and squeezing gently. This simple motion made the rush even greater. She let out another moan and increased her pace, keeping her movements gentle, yet fast. Jarlaxle's grin remained intact yet he closed his eyes and savored the entire moment. She wasn't the most experienced lover, yet she was still Catti-brie; Jarlaxle was just happy to be there.

Catti-brie managed to lean down and kiss him, her fingers once again finding their positions on the sensitive points of his ears. He let out a loud moan and increased his grip on her hips. Catti-brie followed through with a series of thrusts that started rapidly yet became even more violent. Jarlaxle completely lost himself, his short fingernails raking down her lower back as he let out a series of harsh moans.

The blood rush between the both of them was intense. Their bodies connected in a furious, almost existential passion that rendered both of them senseless to nothing else but the growing heat through their bodies and the bliss that seemed to emanate from the entire universe. Jarlaxle would look up and savor the sight of that wild, auburn hair swinging with her violent, animalistic thrusts while Catti-brie enjoyed the purely helpless look on his handsome, ebony face.

Catti-brie savored the building, rising heat becoming stronger. She then threw her head back, whipping her wild hair, and letting out a rising groan that became a scream as her muscles throbbed, though she felt the energy to continue. She braced herself momentarily, and then continued her pace, noticing how Jarlaxle's eyes were closed as if in a trance and he sighed hard. His sighs became harder, turning to groans and then to screams.

Soon the final rush erupted from his body as he gave out a loud, screeching groan. He then rested his head on the ground, gasping for air. Catti-brie slowly withdrew herself and collapsed on her side in the grass, her own breaths desperate, yet a wide smile was on her face. She allowed herself a few moments to clear her head as the realization of what she had just done began to sneak in. It was in no way a rush of guilt, but instead the nagging feeling that she had just done something wrong.

Catti-brie's reverie was broken by the sound of many mad, breathy giggles coming from her partner. She turned her head around to see Jarlaxle still lying prone on the grass, a huge, goofy grin on his face as he continued giggling; a sight Catti-brie found both funny and slightly unnerving.

"Oh…dear…Lolth that was amazing," he gasped.

Catti-brie smiled, and then rubbed his bald head. He raised his head up and kissed her hand before crashing back down.

"You weren't bad," he said with a sigh as he gradually caught his breath.

"I wasn't bad?" she asked teasingly. "You are way too sweet."

"Well, for a human, you were pretty decent."

Catti-brie slowly drew back her hand.

"'For a human?'" she asked, her voice taking more of a strain as a slow anger began building in her chest. "And what in the Hells is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," he started, then paused to get his breath back again, "you obviously lack the centuries of experience for someone of my kind, plus I'm guessing you have not known that many lovers. Considering your vast inexperience, I would say that wasn't too bad. Maybe you're a rough natural, or maybe Master Drizzt is a little more skilled, not that I even care to think on that, but maybe he has taught you a few things, though I highly doubt that. Regardless, you could have been so much worse."

It was obvious Jarlaxle was babbling mindlessly, Catti-brie could tell the tone and the breathy delivery, yet for some reason everything that came out of his mouth rubbed her wrong. This combined with the gradually building guilt over what she had just done made her feel even angrier, though for some reason her rage was muted by almost dazed look in Jarlaxle's red eyes and the fact he was barely moving from his current position sprawled out on the grass.

Catti-brie slowly came to her feet while reaching over and grabbing her trousers from the ground. She then put one leg through, and then the other until the garment was fully on. She lazily restrung her pants with her mind in a complete fog. Her shirt was still open and she felt the warm breeze against her exposed breasts, a feeling that calmed her slightly. Catti-brie then looked back down at Jarlaxle, knowing she should be completely disgusted with this man, yet for some reason her eyes scanned the length of his muscular, naked form and still found his body a work of beauty. He was still sprawled out in the grass barely moving, meaning she had worked more magic on him than he had claimed, which she should have known was typical; of course he wouldn't admit to being one-upped by a human.

A devilish smile formed over Catti-brie's face as she looked back to the woods…her blue eyes meeting a familiar pair of lavender orbs just a few feet away.

She flinched in surprise, and then took a step back and fully regarded Drizzt Do'Urden's ebony face frozen expression that could have been one of shock or confusion, or perhaps a bit of both melded together. Catti-brie then noticed his mane of thick, white hair was slightly matted. Her eyes gradually scanned down to the rest of his body; his tunic was in one hand and his boots in another. His bare torso was dripping with residual perspiration that cemented in a few specks of grass and loose soil. More obvious were the long, red scratches that covered the length of his chest and shoulders.

The two locked gazes for a second and Catti-brie saw a wild-haired Innovindil coming beside him, her clothing dirty and her own face locked into one of sad shock upon seeing Catti-brie. Catti-brie also saw both sets of eyes move toward Jarlaxle, who remained completely oblivious to their presence. Innovindil gasped and made a clumsy move to reach for one of Drizzt's scimitars, before Drizzt gently grabbed her hand, dropping his boots in the process, and put it aside, his expression still not changing.

None of them said anything, only locked glares as all the visuals made everything clear. Catti-brie then sneered at him and walked back over to Jarlaxle, leaning down and kissing him passionately. Jarlaxle registered the kiss and reached a hand up to gently grab the auburn hair hanging down over him. He saw Catti-brie look over and allowed his red eyes to follow hers…only to first see a pair of bare, ebony feet nested in the thick grass. He gave a small yelp and sat up; looking up at Drizzt Do'Urden's stunned expression. Catti-brie gave his bald head one last rub before standing and squaring off against Drizzt's gaze for one second. With another sneer she grabbed the panels of her tunic and opened them for a second to give both a full view of her feminine assets, before turning and walking away.

None of them made any move to stop her, instead Drizzt and Jarlaxle locked stares while Innovindil looked at all of them helplessly. She wanted to run after Catti-brie, but knew it would only make the situation worse. Her blue eyes then went to Drizzt, then at the drow trespasser lying naked in the grass. The next step could only result in bloodshed.

"Well met, Master Drizzt," Jarlaxle finally said with a nervous grin as he looked at Innovindil, figuring she must be the blonde-haired moon elf to which Catti-brie referred.

Drizzt stayed still for a second.

"Well met, Master Jarlaxle," Drizzt said, though his expression seemed almost carved on his face.

Innovindil's serious gaze immediately broke with a mass of giggles. She clamped her small hand over her mouth as the full realization smacked into her. The two continued staring at each other in silence. Jarlaxle then groaned and flopped back down on the ground.

"It's all right, Master Drizzt," he said with an exaggerated sigh, throwing his arms out against the ground, "I understand that I just violated your lady's honor. Well go ahead and get it over with, I can't stand long goodbyes."

"I beg your pardon?" Drizzt replied, his white eyebrows rising slightly.

"You want to kill me now, I understand," Jarlaxle said. "Just go right on ahead, I've lived a good life and quite frankly I really couldn't think of a better way to go."

Innovindil doubled over in laughter, every attempt she made to stifle her giggles was failing miserably.

"Oh, I forgot," Jarlaxle added with a raised index finger, "your moral code prevents you from killing an unarmed man, but I can remedy this."

An ebony hand gently felt the grass and eventually found a thick, knotted stick that he lazily pointed in Drizzt's direction. Innovindil gasped for air and tried to stay standing, but her guffaws threatened to topple her over.

"I'm a deadly creature, you know that," Jarlaxle continued in the same breathy tone. "I have just betrayed you and I need to die, lest I get up off the grass and impale you with this... spear. You should probably kill me now for the sake of your own skin."

Jarlaxle lazily thrust the stick, yet remained sprawled out on the ground. Drizzt looked at him for a second, and then his mouth turned up into a small smile. It sounded like a snort at first, and then a series of chuckles erupted from his throat, quickly turning into hearty laughs. His mind was completely blank, though he only managing to register the image of a nude Jarlaxle lying prone in the grass while aiming a blunt stick at him. Jarlaxle smirked then started laughing along.

Drizzt walked over to him and put a hand down. Jarlaxle clasped his forearm and allowed himself to be lifted to his feet, tossing the stick aside. Drizzt placed an arm around his shoulder and sighed.

"I see the potion worked," he said, stifling another laugh as he decided he wouldn't even think on the meaning of this whole scenario now lest his head explode.

"It did," Jarlaxle replied with his own snicker.

"Good," Drizzt replied with a long sigh. "I would like you to meet a good friend of mine. Jarlaxle, this is Innovindil. Innovindil, this is my old friend Jarlaxle."

Jarlaxle reached out a hand to Innovindil, who took it with a laugh; her eyes scanning this amicable drow wearing nothing but a grin. Jarlaxle gave a grand bow, kissing her delicate fingers.

"It is indeed a pleasure," Innovindil replied, her laughter abating slightly, yet still firmly in place.

"Now Jarlaxle is going to get his clothing back on," Drizzt said, looking over to the other drow. "And then he is going to tell me why he is here and how he got here. Then I am going to take him into the village and we are going to eat some fine food, have a few drinks, and celebrate this wonderful holiday."

"That sounds most delightful," Jarlaxle replied, his grin still intact. "And perhaps we can have a few conversations that involve getting at least some of my belongings back from the clutches of some certain small creatures."

"One task at a time, _abbil_," Drizzt said in a pointed tone.

"Understood," Jarlaxle replied with a humble nod. "Though are you sure the elven revelers will be so receptive of another dark elf in their festivities, especially one who was captured while skulking around earlier?"

"Well, I will just explain that you are a friend of mine and I am sure they should have little problem."

"Any friend to Drizzt Do'Urden is a friend of Moonwood," Innovindil added, still stifling giggles, "regardless of his race. Besides I am sure a few people might be somewhat curious to see what a drow friend to Drizzt Do'Urden would be like."

"It seems I have built up somewhat of a reputation," Drizzt said. "You, of course would know that, considering you would not want to use the name of someone infamous as an alias in goodly lands."

Jarlaxle laughed, though he felt small beads of sweat form down his back.

"How did you know about that?" Jarlaxle asked.

Drizzt laughed and patted him on the back.

"I have my sources," he replied, motioning his head towards the pile of clothing on the ground.


	8. Settling Moon

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

Warning: This chapter contains female on female slash. Anyone who is offended by this should seek other reading material.

**Chapter 8: Settling Moon**

I shouldn't be surprised

These were the words that passed through Drizzt's head repeatedly; an answer to every single thought that assaulted his reason and tore out his insides. His mind was full, yet his mouth stayed closed. His irises took a brighter shade of lavender against the background of gradually growing red as they scanned the green expanse of the forest and saw the gradually rising light of the party grove he had abandoned a few hours earlier.

Occasionally he would glance to his left to see Innovindil walking closely to him also locked in her own world, yet her fair face bore a small smile. She would occasionally glance at him and give him a warm look that would brighten his mood somewhat. His glance would then go to his right to see Jarlaxle taking a casual stride through the grass, his brown boots in his hand and his bare, ebony feet damp with dew. The only sounds that came from the somber procession were Jarlaxle's occasional merry babble about the wonderful weather or how pretty the full moon looked through the evergreens. Every word was music to Drizzt's ears; at last some friendly frivolity amongst all the games and emotional complications that had gone on in the span of that one evening.

Catti-brie is leaving for _The Sea Sprite_; he thought for the thousandth time despite all internal screams against it, I shouldn't be surprised. We have done nothing but emotionally assault each other all night long. I shouldn't be surprised. I gave in and laid with Innovindil three times tonight, all the while Catti-brie lay with another man and I feel nothing about this. Catti-brie lay with Jarlaxle, and I feel nothing about this, in fact, I'm actually enjoying his company when I should be drawing my swords. Catti-brie and I went through so much together before even admitting or own emotions, and now this happens. I shouldn't be surprised. I shouldn't be surprised. _I shouldn't be surprised._

The more his brain screamed these thoughts, the stronger the burn behind his eyes became. His pace became slower and his gaze was vacant, mostly focusing up to the moon, perhaps trying to find some inspiration of perhaps finding a point of focus, such as defining how he actually felt at the moment. His head was heavy as tears were a constant threat, though they were mostly tears of frustration than sadness, though for some reason that emotion was present somewhere. Was he angry? With whom: Catti-brie? Jarlaxle? Innovindil? Himself? Everyone had their part to play in this yet it was all improvised. Was he angry at the circumstances…the circumstances only inevitable? He was only able to formally acknowledge his sadness; a sadness gently mingled with some feeling of peace and perhaps…happiness? Was that at all possible?

His thoughts screamed for a few more moments, until they finally fell silent as if they were all tired of talking. Drizzt was now only felt the slow reaching melancholy spreading from his heart; that and the burn in his hip that had returned with a vengeance. The ache had subsided slightly after his moment with Innovindil, yet he should have known it would only return again stronger after all the activity he had done this night. While the pain had originally been an aching tightness in his hip, it was now growing stronger and beginning to creep into his side and lower abdomen. He took a few breathes and ignored the dull pain, knowing that if he stretched his leg the right way it would go away, a plan which seemed to work for the moment as one phrase flew through his head for the millionth time: I should not be surprised.

The ache had subsided, yet Drizzt was slightly glad for this distraction, though he did savor the feel of his slow walk through the wet grass and the glowing lamps from the now visible party. The sound of a merrily plucked lute flowed with the wind of sweet evergreen and reached his heavy heart and raised his spirits considerably as his eyes now regarded the small crowd gathered around the center of the party grove and where four red haired gnomes came fully into view. All were dressed in multicolored tunics with green leggings and hopped along and tumbled over each other in fantastic somersaults. Two faced two and did multiple back flips, their small forms tumbling in opposite directions before cart wheeling back and landing on their stubby legs to join arms and circle each other. Smiles were plastered on their ruddy faces as they would turn eyes to regard the crowd of elves around them.

The crowd seemed so wrapped with this performance that no one seemed to notice the small group slowly approaching. A tiny voice in the back of Drizzt's mind managed to make itself heard over the din: stay close to Jarlaxle because many of the elves would not be completely keen on having another dark elf around, especially one caught in the trees earlier. Drizzt knew he would have to stay close to his friend: the same friend who lay with Catti-brie earlier, yet that thought was quickly lost. Fortunately, none of the patrolling elves who caught Jarlaxle earlier were in sight.

Drizzt occasionally looked around for a general reaction from the other elves. Most of them were wrapped in the performance, though occasionally a green or blue eye would turn in their direction, turn away, and then do a rapid double-take at the sight of the other drow. Drizzt would smile at them and nod his head in greeting while keeping noticeably close to Jarlaxle, indicating that he was indeed a friend. The elves would then turn away, though a suspicious eye still occasionally turned to Jarlaxle. The mercenary was gaining a little more attention as silent word of his presence began to circulate. A few elves whispered amongst themselves, while some would stand back and flash Jarlaxle dirty glares before seeing Drizzt and turning their gaze away. No one made any hostile moves and left the two alone to their business.

Innovindil slowly made her way beside them and watched the gnome tumblers, though Drizzt could see from the corner of his eye that she was occasionally turning a long glance at him. He would look over to return the glance, his brain celebrating how she wouldn't flinch away this time. Instead they would lock gazes and Drizzt did manage a small smile that seemed to communicate more then words could at the moment. She slowly inched up to him and gently pulled the shoulder of his tunic.

"I am going to my tent to get on some fresh clothes," she whispered in his ear over the cheer of the crowd. "I should not be long."

Drizzt looked at her once again and exchanged another comfortable smile as Drizzt nodded. Innovindil leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before walking off; giving his eyes an opportunity to savor the lithe beauty of her form as it faded into the crowd. He gave Jarlaxle a sidelong glance and saw his red eyes subtly turned in the same direction, his arched eyebrows rising further in interest. A small laugh managed to escape Drizzt's throat as he regarded his companion.

Yes, Jarlaxle is a lecher, he thought with a smile. He's a drow. He then blinked and gave a small chuckle as the irony of that thought became perfectly clear. Though that doesn't necessarily make him bad, he corrected himself.

"See something you like, friend?" Drizzt said softly in drow, his smile widening.

"She is work of beauty," Jarlaxle replied in their home tongue. "You should consider yourself a lucky man to sample such fruits."

Drizzt allowed himself a small laugh.

"Maybe you should court her," Drizzt replied in a sarcastic tone. "Show her that some drow are capable of actual romance."

"Are you issuing a challenge?" Jarlaxle replied, his own grin widening.

"She is a maiden of pure moon elf blood, not easily won especially by our race."

"An elf of white is a maiden's delight," Jarlaxle said, his gaze meeting Drizzt's, "but to savor elf of black is to never turn back."

Drizzt closed his eyes at the statement and did all he could to keep from bursting out in laughter. Jarlaxle watched him with an amused smirk, before letting out his own loud chuckle.

"An ounce of wisdom you've picked up on the surface?" Drizzt asked, managing to stifle his laughter for a short moment.

"From my own wisdom, I guess," Jarlaxle said with a shrug, the grin still planted on his face. "Yes, Innovindil is indeed a beautiful woman, but I will leave her alone. She is too pure a creature for my involvement, though I myself cannot believe I am saying that."

"Well, after that tale you told me tonight, I'm willing to believe anything."

"You're too trusting," Jarlaxle added. "I actually lied to you; I was sent as a distraction while Artemis Entreri is slowly making his way past the elven guards and waiting for his perfect moment to battle you fairly at last, lest he kill me of course."

"Of course," Drizzt replied with a dirty laugh.

"Actually I do wish he was here. After all the nonsense that has happened this Midsummer, who knows maybe he will find you a little more agreeable. Perhaps he will even pursue you out of affection."

"Unless he has affections for a corpse," Drizzt added with a pointed glare, though his smile stayed on. "Right, Jarlaxle?"

Jarlaxle gave another laugh, and then turned to see Drizzt's arms folded over his chest, tapping his foot on the ground.

"Don't worry," he said in a semi-annoyed tone, "our little secret's still safe."

"I thought so," Drizzt said with a hint of satisfaction.

Jarlaxle turned his attention back to the tumbling gnomes while Drizzt gave him another glance. Whatever happened thus far that night was whatever happened, he ultimately decided. He was tired of thinking on it at all while holding grudges and trying to recoup things that were lost while ignoring things that had been staring him in the face all along. Drizzt remained content watching this amusing performance in the company of a friend, hoping something could be salvaged from this evening.

He shifted his position and watched as the gnomes tumbled off each other's backs and landed perfectly in one straight line, all giving low bows and allowing their curly red hair tumble over their faces. Drizzt clapped warmly and gave a low whistle; a sudden movement that seemed to jar his unstable hip even more. The pain that had only been a small press was now steadily growing to the point where it was obvious. Drizzt shifted the weight on his leg more, but that did not seem to help.

Jarlaxle glanced over at Drizzt in between watching the gnomes hop off into the woods.

"A fantastic performance wouldn't you say, _abbil_?" Jarlaxle said in Common, and noticing the sudden wince in his companion's face as he braced his torso.

"_Abbil_?" he asked with more concern.

Drizzt gave a deep breath and stood up straight, though it was obvious he was still in pain.

"I'm fine," he said, feeling the burn subside slightly.

Jarlaxle nodded, though a part of him wasn't entirely convinced.

"I'm completely parched," Drizzt said, attempting to sound cheery, "I say our next stop should be the punch."

Jarlaxle eyed him curiously, and then nodded again.

00000000000

The leather flap flew open and Innovindil casually strode into her tent with a content sigh, her blue eyes scanning the various embroidered tapestries she had collected in her travels from the past year while allowing herself some relaxation. It had been an interesting evening for her to say the least; she allowed herself to become intimate with Drizzt, though she knew it cost her friendship with Catti-brie; who managed to lay the only other drow who Drizzt called a friend.

This situation is too bizarre, she thought, casually tearing off her blue tunic and allowing her bare torso some air before reaching for a clean, white shirt folded neatly on the green blanketed mattress of her cot.

"I have heard the most beautiful music," a female voice suddenly called from behind her.

Innovindil reached down to the floor for her sword, turning her head back enough to see Catti-brie standing in the doorway. With a relieved sigh, she straightened and faced her; not caring that Catti-brie now had a full view of Innovindil's exposed breasts. Catti-brie's eyes did focus downward for a second for a lingering glance before returning her attention to the elf's gaze. Innovindil noted that this glance was not the sudden eyeflick of surprise or shock, nor was it the examining glance of curiosity or perhaps comparison. Instead Catti-brie seemed legitimately interested in her bare form, a point of which Innovindil made a quick mental note.

Her eyes instead focused on Catti-brie. Her brown tunic was now buttoned, but just enough to leave a hint of soft, round flesh in view. Her clothing was still relatively clean, yet her auburn hair was still slightly matted enough to make it look adventurously wild.

"What music is that," Innovindil asked, taking a seat on the cot, "the gentle pluck of a lute or the soft, breathy wail of a flute in elven hands?"

Catti-brie shook her head, a mischievous smile firmly planted on her face.

"The music of two elves making love," Catti-brie said in a breathy, almost wistful tone.

Innovindil's smile straightened. Catti-brie had heard them, she thought with a small gasp.

"Two melodious voices, one male one female, in perfect harmony," Catti-brie continued, reaching one arm to the ceiling and grabbing a small piece of canvas that supported her leaning weight and looking up at the green ceiling. "A moon elf's singing sighs and a drow's passioned wails calling through the perfumed wind, all mingling together like the golden threads of sunrise."

Catti-brie let go of the canvas and slowly ambled towards Innovindil, whose smile returned.

"One can just picture the two lithe bodies intertwined in their purest forms," Catti-brie continued, gently threading her fingers through Innovindil's golden hair. "Soft flesh pressing against soft flesh, wiry limbs tangled, small hands caressing every inch and curve of gentle body."

Innovindil closed her eyes and allowed her head to be gently pulled back by Catti-brie's hand, drinking in this improvised poetry from a woman who had just learned to appreciate physical pleasure.

"You should write that down," Innovindil said, opening her eyes and feeling the mattress shift as Catti-brie sit down behind her. "Have you ever seriously considered poetry before?"

Catti-brie gave a giggle and leaned her forehead down on Innovindil's bare shoulder, her wavy auburn hair tumbling over the moon elf's sensitive breast and sending a momentary wave of warmth through her.

"If you are wondering, I am not angry," Catti-brie said, raking her fingers through Innovindil's hair and separating it into three clumps. "Yes, I did hear you two, but I only expected it. It is Midsummer after all, and maybe Drizzt does need to appreciate his body a little more."

"And you took my advice," Innovindil replied, "I am very proud of you, especially with someone who you have not cared for in the past. What's this I hear that he held you captive?"

Catti-brie thought for a second then sighed.

"He actually saved my life," she said, her fingers taking the locks of hair and weaving them in a loose braid. "He protected me from a lot of rather nasty individuals and helped Drizzt and I escape. Besides, all he did to me was…play with my hair a lot."

"He seems like a nice fellow," Innovindil added, savoring the feel of those small fingers through her scalp. "How was he?"

"I rather enjoyed myself," Catti-brie replied with a creeping grin. "But, whether he was better than…" her voice trailed off with a sigh "…I cannot say."

"Regardless, you allowed yourself to experience physical pleasure," Innovindil continued, "and how do you feel now?"

"Unbelievable," Catti-brie said not missing a beat, "though he did make a few disparaging comments about my performance."

"If that is the worst treatment you ever get from a drow," the moon elf said, suddenly shutting out some past experiences lest they also take her thoughts, "consider yourself very lucky."

Catti-brie didn't pry further, getting the indication that Innovindil spoke from personal experience. Instead she continued braiding her gorgeous, blonde hair until it became one long braid that stretched down the length of her back.

"So what happens after tonight?" Innovindil asked.

Catti-brie sighed hard.

"I'm leaving for Waterdeep in a fortnight," she said, her tone becoming grave. "Sailing out with _The Sea Sprite_ to do some pirate hunting."

"What about Drizzt?" Innovindil asked, turning her head back to have Catti-brie's sad expression answer the question for her.

She shifted her position on the bed and directly faced Catti-brie, who was now barely an inch from her.

"I want you to talk to him before the end of the evening," she said, looking directly into Catti-brie's deep, blue eyes. "Both of you are sad and both of you do not know what either of you want, as I have said. Now you both have sampled other fruits, had a different experience, perhaps even one so forbidden that the boundaries of expectation have been broken and all you can do now is rebuild."

"Destruction can only bring rebirth," Catti-brie said with a sad smile.

"Even if freedom is your only interest," Innovindil continued, "don't just escape without giving at least some formal goodbye to the one who has been everything to you since you were a little girl. You owe him at least that much."

Catti-brie nodded with another harsh sigh. Innovindil then put a hand to her face.

"The answers will come to you in time," the moon elf continued, leaning in further.

Catti-brie's smile widened, then shifted her head and kissed Innovindil's hand in a gesture of playful thanks. Innovindil sighed, a sound not lost on Catti-brie, who also noticed her eyes close slightly at the touch. She then recalled the affectionate way Innovindil ran her fingers through her auburn locks earlier in the evening and spoke to her in such soft, soothing tones.

"You said earlier that I am a beautiful woman," Catti-brie said. "Were you speaking for yourself?"

Innovindil blinked, slightly taken aback by the question, though she responded with a smile.

"Elves are connoisseurs of beauty," she said, "the beauty of nature, the beauty of music, or the beauty of a beautiful form. All of it strikes each heart, whether the heart belongs to an elf of moon or sun or wood or even darkness, all seeing beauty in their own ways yet seeing beauty nonetheless. I have some to appreciate a handsome lord or a fair maiden; all are still beautiful to me."

Catti-brie stared at Innovindil in awe, suddenly remembering the tender moment she witnessed between Nialian and Jarlaxle as a sudden thought came through her head: why not continue this experiment a little further.

She turned her face down towards Innovindil's hand and continued rubbing her lips along the sensitive flesh, then raising her own hand up to it and gently kissing down the palm and watching Innovindil's smile widen. Catti-brie then slid her hand down, caressing the length of her arm and allowing it to rest on her shoulder. She pulled her in slowly and placed a gentle kiss on her full lips. Innovindil responded with the same pace, both lips savoring each other the way one would slowly sip a fine wine. Innovindil's hand moved from Catti-brie's face and traced down the length of her jaw before lightly brushing against her neck and drawing out a sigh. Catti-brie's other hand reached her shoulder and started running down the length of her blonde hair, undoing the braid and sending pressure through her spine.

Innovindil slowly drew back, though her gaze remained firmly planted on Catti-brie.

"Would you like to stop here," Innovindil said softly, "or would you like me to continue this further."

"I do need to expand my horizons," Catti-brie replied, few thoughts of reluctance passing through her mind before dying quickly under the weight of her curiosity and physical urgency.

"Just promise me you will talk to Drizzt after this," Innovindil said. Catti-brie replied with a firm nod.

Innovindil smiled and leaned in again to press her lips against Catti-brie's. Catti-brie allowed herself to be taken in by the kiss, opening her mouth slightly and allowing her tongue to gently rub against Innovindil's lips, which then parted to allow her own tongue to gently brush against Catti-brie's. Catti-brie was taken in by a sweeping warmth, the feeling of letting go completely and feeling absolutely perfect in the process. Innovindil gently guided her to her back and continued kissing her. Catti-brie's hands moved from Innovindil's shoulders and gently caressed downwards, cupping over her soft breasts and squeezing gently.

Innovindil let out a soft sigh, her hands moving to the buttons on Catti-brie's tunic and slowly undoing them until the panels of her shirt were open and her ample breasts were now exposed. A small elven finger gently traced down the middle of her chest, and then disappeared under her belt. Catti-brie sighed and savored the warmth as the small finger gently explored; hitting every sensitive spot like a master lute player would pluck the right string at the right time. She let her head sink into the feather mattress as her body became warmer and tingled at every masterful stroke.

Her own hands ran down the length of Innovindil's rib cage, and then one hand clumsily found her trouser strings. Catti-brie found undoing them difficult as every wave rippled through her form, making her feel numb. At last, the strings were undone and one hand cautiously reached down, feeling the soft flesh and then the soft loins that were not her own. This fact made her hesitate for a second, yet Innovindil's deep kiss and the feel of her increasing pace spurred her on. Innovindil gave a small cry as Catti-brie's finger began a small rhythm.

"Just tell me if I'm doing this wrong," she managed to say between heavy sighs as her head became lighter.

"No, you're doing fine," Innovindil said before letting out another soft cry at Catti-brie's movements. "Dear gods you must be a natural."

Catti-brie's own movement responded with the increasing warmth. Soon, her vision was becoming a mass of specks and her mouth only letting out breathy cries. She was rewarded with Innovindil's own sighs and the sight of her pure white body reflecting a beam of moon light that came through a crack in the tent. She never realized she could find the female form this attractive, but then it had been a night of self discovery.

Catti-brie closed her eyes and let thee wave take her over. She barely regarded her own movements, though she did hear Innovindil's cries growing louder and new her general pace must be sufficient. At last the wave took her over. She gave a loud cry and felt the rush through her loins, followed by a cry from Innovindil as her own flesh trembled. Catti-brie withdrew her hand and let her body sink into the mattress. Innovindil's own hand came back and she gently lay on top of Catti-brie, her small breasts pressing against Catti-brie's more ample flesh, yet a magnificent feeling nonetheless.

"How was that for an experiment?" Innovindil said, resting her hands on Catti-brie's collarbone and leaning into her face.

"I think I liked that," Catti-brie managed to gasp, her head still spinning.

Innovindil laughed and leaned in to kiss Catti-brie. It was supposed to be a quick peck; though Catti-brie let her own lips linger for a second before drawing back.

"I say we rest a bit and then find out what the boys are doing," Catti-brie said.

Innovindil smiled and gave a gleeful laugh.

000000000

The green glow from the ring was unmistakable.

Nialian continued his brief word with Hamit Boddynod, one of the famous gnome acrobats from the troupe of The Boddynod Brothers from Tethyr who graced Moonwood with their talents that Midsummer, sharing a story of joining a circus during his youth when the emerald ring on his right hand began to glow and vibrate. He looked down for a second, letting one small finger conceal the stone before finishing his point and excusing himself.

That ring was directly linked to the ring he had given Jarlaxle earlier. The glow only meant that Jarlaxle had tapped the ring and requested his presence. He concentrated on the stone for a second, feeling its vibrations and gauging exactly where its companion was located. Nialian made his conclusions and felt a small wave of panic; Jarlaxle was only fifty feet from him, meaning he was in the party grove. It was obvious he was in trouble, probably cornered by a group of moon elves who would not be the least bit receptive of the presence of an unknown drow.

Nialian hurried through the crowd, managing a few terse "hellos" to passing friends as his pace was fixed in the direction of the signal. His weak legs took a determined stride as he crossed a small section of the part grove and reached a small area on the outskirts where he saw Jarlaxle from behind, crouched down and talking in drow to someone.

"Jarlaxle," Nialian called.

The drow came to his feet and turned around as Nialian circled him and saw who Jarlaxle was talking to. Sitting against a tree, his legs outstretched and arms brace firmly around his abdomen was Drizzt Do'Urden. His ebony skin took a gray complexion and his face was contorted in pain.

"What happened?" the cleric said, coming to Drizzt's side.

"An old war would that acts up occasionally," he managed to say though strained gasps. "I took an orc's club to the hip last year…"

"…Though the wound has never pained him like this before," Jarlaxle continued with a sigh, his gaze turned downwards.

Nialian pressed the back of his hand to Drizzt's face and felt his skin was slightly warmer than usual.

"Did you see a cleric or any healer after you were struck?" Nialian asked.

Drizzt shook his head. He was about to respond verbally, though the burn was becoming stronger. It was a pain like he had never felt before. He could only compare this to the excruciating sensation left by the crossbow bolt of pain Vendes Baenre shot into him during his imprisonment in the Baenre Compound a decade ago. The sear was only slightly less, and he knew the exact reason for the pain before. Drizzt had broken bones, dislocated joints, taken blades, pulled muscles, and had even been systematically tortured by a drow priestess, but this ache actually scared him. This time he could not pinpoint the source, almost as if his body was turning against itself.

"Just take a few deep breathes," Nialian said, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. "We will get you to my tent and see if we can't fix this. Can you stand?"

Drizzt nodded. Jarlaxle put down his hand and gently pulled Drizzt up, the movement sending a wave of nausea over him and making him glad he hadn't eaten anything in a long while. He swung an arm around Jarlaxle's shoulder and allowed himself to be slowly guided forward, his own legs weakened by the wave of pain that assaulted the rest of his body.

"Whatever happens," Drizzt said to both of them, "could someone please find Catti-brie and tell her what is going on?"

"Of course, Drizzt," Nialian said, noting how his friend's gasping voice took a tone of profound concern.

Author's Note: I know, another cliffhanger. Yes, I am evil. Just think of this as a great lead in to a great chapter, as well as a great opportunity to make speculation on what is actually wrong with Drizzt. All will be revealed in time.


	9. Fading Moon

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

Author's Note: This chapter contains no sex…instead it contains gore (ha ha). I am not a med student nor do I have very much knowledge of medical practices, so this chapter is going to contain a lot of literary license (or complete BS-ing, whichever works best).

**Chapter 9: Fading Moonlight**

Jarlaxle crossed his feet as he leaned comfortably against a mid-sized armoire that stood in the side corner of the spacious tent: a green canvas structure the size of a small cottage, yet used entirely as a healing station and infirmary for the small village. The mercenary folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the blue painted cabinet with a calm gait, yet his heart was pounding and his impatience was slightly turning to anger the longer he waited. His red eyes never left Drizzt, who was lying on the plush, green cushion of a raised bench: his excruciating pain looked slightly muted after drinking the gold-colored elixir Nialian gave him earlier, yet his face was still slightly contorted as he continued closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.

For some reason, this sight disturbed Jarlaxle. Maybe he cared so much more about Drizzt's health than he originally thought; enough seeing his friend in this state was hard to bear. Drizzt's complexion was also slightly gray and beads of sweat poured from his body. He dry heaved over the bench several times, though Jarlaxle could only speculate as to why Nialian made him change immediately out of his leather trousers and into a pair of loose, blue cotton bottoms and only a part of it had to so with increased comfort and the cleric's accessibility to the drow's aching hip.

The thing that unnerved Jarlaxle the most about this was the fact that Nialian was saying nothing, not even making it clear if Drizzt's hip was actually the problem. Nialian started the examination by gently feeling the structures in the joint and muscles before having Drizzt flex his hip and examining the workings of the extremities. The old priest remained quiet, though Jarlaxle was even less reassured when his attentions went from the hip to the adjacent side of his lower abdomen, which he was now patting gently; withered, yet delicate fingers feeling the structures underneath.

Nialian's expression of inquiry then went from one of curiosity to one of grave concern. He closed his green eyes and concentrated as his fingers began to glow a bright silver, which passed to Drizzt's abdomen. Drizzt let out a long sigh as if the pain was melting away, though his complexion remained gray and perspiration still flowed. Jarlaxle let out his own cautionary sigh, yet somehow knew his friend was not yet well and his condition could be more serious.

At last, Nialian's fingers stopped glowing and he gently opened his eyes, continuing to feel the section of Drizzt's abdomen; his features still sour.

"So will it be a boy or a girl?" Jarlaxle piped in; immediately receiving a patient, yet annoyed glance from Nialian and an obscene gesture with a forced smile from Drizzt.

Jarlaxle managed a small chuckle, yet received a sudden realization about Drizzt's possible condition that quickly straightened his smirk. Abdominal pain, nausea, fever…other possible digestive disturbances; the condition sounded too much like an illness more common in humans, though under the right circumstances…

"If you don't have any theories," Jarlaxle said again, leaning further against the armoire, "I did think of one possibility."

"And what is that?" Nialian said, his eyes still heavy despite the small upturn in the corners of his long, thin mouth.

"In my fourth year at Melee-Magthere, one of my instructors taught us a rather difficult, yet extremely effective thrust with a blunt weapon, aimed at the right side on humans, the left for elves, saying if we hit the right spot at the right time, the blow could either rupture or otherwise severely damage the appendix; the recipient would either bleed to death quickly, suffer a slow death by peritonitis, or perhaps even damage the appendix in such a way to turn it into a timed bomb set to go off any time."

"Master Argith mentioned that briefly in my sixth year," Drizzt added weakly, "though he said it was a maneuver best used by monks and a waste of effort otherwise. Though I can guess a large club wielded by a large orc can still have the same effect."

Both drow turned their attention to Nialian, who responded with a long sigh and a reluctant nod. Drizzt groaned and threw his head back against the black and green embroidered pillow.

"It is a very wise and astute observation," the old cleric said grimly. "Unfortunately it is also the cause of your condition, Drizzt."

"Brilliant," Jarlaxle groaned, shifting uncomfortably.

"Your appendix is badly inflamed," Nialian continued, focusing his attention entirely on Drizzt, whose heavy gaze was fixed on the ceiling. "My examination has shown me that the organ was likely bruised after the initial impact causing a case of rather mild appendicitis, a pain most likely concealed by the bruised muscle in your leg and your natural tolerance for pain. If you had taken any measures of healing, whether through a potion or at the hands of a healer, the condition would have been fully cured. However, given the circumstances at the time, you were very much isolated and surrounded by an army of orcs, so you simply stretched it out a little; the pain eventually subsiding as the appendix most likely healed itself in time, though it was left damaged; the entrance partially blocked and a thin layer of scar tissue forming. This would bring on another mild appendicitis attack, then another. Every time you thought it was merely your hip acting up, Drizzt, was actually your appendix becoming inflamed. Given the injury, the appendix sustained more tissue damage with every attack, ultimately you would have one, acute attack that could not be ignored; which is what happened tonight. I have used every one of my magical means to treat this condition, which have relieved some of the pain and swelling, though the appendix is still greatly inflamed, most likely due to permanent tissue damage that is beyond my powers to heal. There is only one more thing I can do to bring you out of danger."

"He's going to have to vivisect you, friend," Jarlaxle muttered, though it almost echoed through every corner of the deathly quiet room.

Drizzt gave a small, groaning chuckle managed a small smile; the grim yet lightly delivered pronouncement appealed to a certain sense of dark humor that seemed only appropriate given the circumstances.

"I hesitate to use those exact words, Jarlaxle," Nialian said calmly, giving him an annoyed look before turning back to Drizzt. "But the only way your condition can be cured is if your appendix is removed, and immediately. I will give you a potion that will put you into a deep sleep and you will feel nothing. It will just be a small incision, your appendix will be tied off from the rest of the intestine and cut out, and then you will be sewn back up and you should wake up soon after. It should take less than a couple hours."

Drizzt let his gaze fall to the ceiling as another wave of nausea threatened him. The idea of being knowingly cut open and having his internal organs felt and scrutinized was one with which he was not entirely comfortable; neither was the phrase "should wake up" a pleasing thought either. However, he preferred this option greatly over the alternative. He looked up at Nialian and nodded slowly.

"If it must be done, it should be done soon," he said, his weak voice now fully resigned.

Nialian nodded back stepped aside, raising a blue ring to his mouth, into which he spoke a few words to his clerics out of ear shot. Jarlaxle came fully to his feet and gradually walked closer to Drizzt, whose gaze returned to the ceiling; a look of grim concern plastered on his face as his lower lip trembled slightly. It was obvious he was nervous, maybe a little afraid, though Jarlaxle could blame him for nothing.

Nialian ended the magical conversation, then went into the back end of the tent and retrieved a few sets of linen towels from a small cabinet as he moved a small, wooden table next to the bench. He then moved to the armoire, gently nudging Jarlaxle aside while tying back his long, silver hair with a leather cord, then opening the cabinet, pulling out a small, rolled up bag from one side drawer and placing it on the table, followed by a few small bottles of various elixirs.

Jarlaxle moved away from the bureau and walked over to Drizzt, who put his hands behind his head and regarded him calmly.

"Sorry your night had to end this way, _abbil_," Jarlaxle said with a long sigh.

"Who said my night's over?" Drizzt replied, forcing a grin despite all the thoughts racing through his mind steeped in a thousand nerves.

Jarlaxle gave a small chuckle as they both watched Nialian unroll the bag and draw out a series of small, curved blades on wooden handles, space them out on a small, white towel on the table, and open a bottle of gold liquid before sprinkling its light contents over them.

"And of course Catti-brie is likely half way to Mithril Hall by now," Drizzt said.

"Who knows, maybe she and Innovindil are enjoying some quality time together," Jarlaxle added in a cheery tone, a sudden realization drawing a dirty laugh; a reference not lost on Drizzt, who added his own laugh.

"Given how this night has gone," Drizzt said, his voice a bit lighter, "nothing surprises me anymore."

"And to think none of us were there," Jarlaxle said, drawing a heartier laugh from Drizzt, who actually started to feel slightly cleansed by this laugh.

His new mirth even lasted through the sight on Nialian taking out a small bottle of greenish, silvery liquid. The priest undid a glass stopper, and poured a small amount on a thick, green towel. Drizzt had a strong feeling what this meant, yet he was determined to remain calm.

"This is a rather powerful herb used only for sedative purposes," the priest said. "You need to breathe in its contents and you will fall unconscious, not feeling anything and waking when all is through."

Drizzt sighed hard, laying his head back into the pillow.

"Jarlaxle," Drizzt said, his expression more serious, "should you find Catti-brie before I wake, tell her I love her."

"You have my word," the mercenary said with a nod.

Drizzt gave him a small, defeated smile; a look that sent a chill through Jarlaxle's spine.

"See you soon, _abbil_," Drizzt said to his kinsman with a nervous laugh.

"Sweet dreams," Jarlaxle replied, feeling a significant sting of concern pierce through his being.

Nialian positioned the cloth in his hand and slowly covered Drizzt's nose and mouth.

"Now, just breathe deeply," the cleric softly whispered into his ear.

Drizzt's gaze went at first to the ceiling, then at Jarlaxle as he deeply inhaled the mixture. His eyelids then grew heavy as a numbness crept over his body. His muscles relaxed and his eyes gently rolled back as his lids fully fluttered closed, the potion fully taking his consciousness.

Nialian removed the cloth and raised Drizzt's lids slightly to see his pupils at the appropriate dilation. He then rolled up the sleeves of his robe and reached for a bottle of clear liquid, opening the cork, removing his rings and putting them in a side pocket before pouring the liquid onto his hands and rubbing it in. Jarlaxle shook his head, shaking off a sudden feeling of dread that crept into his consciousness.

"So your assistants should be here soon?" Jarlaxle asked with a sigh.

Nialian's expression became even grimmer as he concentrated on rubbing in the potion with more effort. Jarlaxle's stomach sank

"This is a small village," Nialian said, rubbing in the liquid until it was completely absorbed by his skin, though creating a shiny membrane on his delicate flesh, "I have a total of four clerics in my service. One is recovering from childbirth, one is attending to an ill child, and the two others I called are en route to the village and should be here in an hour."

"You have an hour?" Jarlaxle asked through gritted teeth.

Nialian sighed hard and shook his head vigorously.

"We need to begin immediately," he said, nudging the bottle towards Jarlaxle. "His condition is grave. The appendix is severely inflamed; in fact it is a mere mass of bloated tissue that could burst at any time."

"Thank you for sharing this information now," the drow said in a tone of biting sarcasm. "You did a great job putting on a smiling face in front of your apparently dying ward." Jarlaxle gave another sigh, and then another thought slammed him across the skull. "Wait, what in the Nine Hells do you mean 'we?'"

"If he is not operated on now, Drizzt will die," Nialian said in a raised voice. "All I need is an assistant who will monitor his vital signs and pass me a tool when I need it."

"I hope you realize, friend, that I am far from a cleric," Jarlaxle growled.

"But your training as a warrior has given you basic knowledge of the anatomy, which is all I need."

"As well as individuals more qualified for such matters than I. What do you mean none of your clerics are able to come here immediately? Doesn't Corellon have other representatives in this village tonight besides your four damned favorites; at least representatives who would be willing to cut open this drow for the purposes of saving his life?"

"Jarlaxle, Drizzt only has enough time for me to remove this bane from his body," Nialian snapped. "I'm not forcing you to assist me, though if you refuse, leave my sight now. Sit there out in the open in a village of elves, which will surely welcome your presence, and take the chance that Zaknafein will have a premature reunion with his son because of his old friend's cowardice."

Nialian could have slammed Jarlaxle in the sternum with an adamantine ram and had the same effect. He stood dumfounded for a second, then nodded. Nialian lifted the bottle of liquid and forced it into Jarlaxle's hand.

"Remove your ring and rub this solution on your hands," the priest said, his tone significantly calmer, yet those green-gold eyes bored through the drow's soul.

The mercenary did as he was asked, removing the silver ring and putting it on the table before pouring the slimy solution on his hands and rubbing it in. He felt a tingle through his skin and watched as the small dirt smudges that found their way on his ebony fingers earlier faded as a stretchy membrane formed over the covered flesh. His red eyes trailed to Nialian, who positioned himself over Drizzt, removing his cotton bottoms and placing them on the floor before lifting a linen towel and laying it over his legs, then laying another over his chest and upper abdomen, exposing the area where his work would be done. The priest then picked up a simple, short blade from the table.

"You're eight hundred-years-old, Nialian," Jarlaxle muttered, flexing his hands as the liquid was fully absorbed. "How can I be sure your hands won't shake?"

Nialian then flipped the razor-sharp blade into the air and held out his tiny index finger. The handle landed on the space between his knuckle and fingertip and balanced perfectly. There was no swaying or shaking from this hand. Jarlaxle smiled and nodded in defeat.

"I say we start this," the drow said as merrily as he could.

Nialian gave a pained smile and swung the handle into the proper position between in his hand. He nodded, looked down, positioned the blade over the left side of Drizzt's lower abdomen, and made the first cut.

000000000

The leather flap flew open, sending in a wave of cool, night air that Catti-brie greedily inhaled. She practically skipped out of the tent, her eyes eating up the sight of the lush, green trees that stood out against the starry sky illuminated by the rich, full moon that had already begun its slow descent over the horizon.

She casually buttoned her shirt, not caring who was around to get even the slightest glimpse of her exposed form or even the fact that she and Innovindil were walking together rather closely. Catti-brie looked over at her…lover? The very thought just made her giggle.

Barely an hour earlier, she and the moon elf were wrapped in each other's arms, their delicate fingers gently caressing each other's intimate flesh in a moment meant to be nothing more than pure, passionate abandon. Even after their moment of passion, she and Innovindil lay together in a peaceful embrace; Catti-brie lying quietly in between a beautiful waking dream as she savored Innovindil's soft skin and inhaled the lavender oil that gently rose from the blonde hair that tumbled over her bare breasts. Even when her elven lover rose and pulled her to her feet, Catti-brie's head was still swimming.

I made love with a woman; Catti-brie's thoughts sang as she now skipped along the grove and inhaled the aroma of evergreens and every cedar campfire in the forest. And I enjoyed the experience. Is there nothing I cannot do now?

She took another deep breath as every one of her senses seemed to sharper as all they experienced was beauty. She had just gone through a rather unique experience, making everything seem fresh and new. The leaves seemed a little greener, the elven revelers a little more beautiful, and the glow of the wonderful, precious moon seemed more a song through her heart than a vision in her blue eyes.

Nothing that happened before seemed to matter now. Catti-brie had gone from being locked in a world of her own expectations of the natural order of things to having those comfortable concepts completely smashed. Not only had she made love with a woman, she had also seduced a vile, dark elven mercenary and left him senseless. It was absolutely perfect.

Catti-brie held her head high as the extra bounce flowed through her step. She and Innovindil floated back into the party grove, taking hands and skipping into a small circle of revelers gathered around a trio of elven maidens: all with glowing, blue black hair and all wearing soft, green dresses with plunging necklines. A few fair eyes turned in their direction, conjuring a few joyous smiles from elves that would glance at them, give their beaming greetings, and turn their attentions back to the haunting wail of the fiddles played in a perfect chord.

The two stopped, Catti-brie leaning her head on Innovindil's fair shoulder while drinking in the beautiful sight of these delicate, elven maidens; admiring their fair faces while allowing her eyes to trail over their curves and mentally celebrating the whole new world that had opened up before her.

A world of her own, apart from the stifling walls of Mithril Hall, Bruenor's gruff doting, Wulfgar's constant attentions, all the whispers speculating when she would finally marry Drizzt…

The very thought of that name sent curved her face into a sad smile. Maybe that was why he was intimate with Innovindil last year, she thought. Maybe he was also feeling stifled, as he had allowed himself to be his entire life; whether by the general hell of Menzoberranzan, the dangerous isolation of the Underdark, the harsh shunning of the surface world, or even his own moral code. Maybe he was breaking free at last and this was the clearest way.

Catti-brie's bliss was slightly bruised as she thought of Drizzt: the first one to experiment with his body, yet she punished him for this. She did nothing but give him harsh words and cold glares for doing something that she had come to appreciate now.

He was right, Catti-brie thought, her smile straightening slightly. I really need to find him and tell him that. We have so many things we need to discuss, and now is the best time.

Catti-brie's mind turned to Drizzt in more ways. She wished he was here; here so she could run her hands through that beautiful mane of white hair and over his soft skin of the most beautiful shade of ebony. It was the first time she had thought truly lovingly of him in the past year. All it took was another Midsummer.

"Mistress Catti-brie," a male voice called from behind.

She looked over her shoulder and saw the black-haired mage she had flirted with earlier.

"I hate to bother you," he said, "but I have word that Master Drizzt was taken to the healing tent earlier."

Catti-brie's eyebrows furrowed in sudden concern. Another silver-haired male elf in similar robes came close beside him.

"My partner told me he saw Drizzt leaning on the shoulder of this…other dark elf…"

"…Nialian escorted them both to his tent," the other elf continued. "He looked ill. We have been trying to find you for the past half hour, but we could only reach you now."

Catti-brie's cheeks briefly flushed in embarrassment. She looked over to Innovindil, who heard the conversation; her own face taking a look of concern.

"Thank you…" Catti-brie squeaked out, suddenly realizing she never got his name.

"Lasthen," the black-haired mage said with a bright smile. "And this is my lover Rinis."

"Pleased to formally meet you," Catti-brie replied with a stiff bow and an embarrassed smile before turning to Innovindil. "I say we investigate."

Catti-brie gave the elves another bow, before turning on her heel and quickly pacing towards the green tent at the back of the grove.

"I hope he is not too ill," Innovindil said, following close behind.

"He and Jarlaxle were probably carousing a little too much," Catti-brie said, her lingering bliss the only thing keeping her together. "I will probably walk in and see him retching into a bucket and going on drunkenly about how he violated another one of his principles."

Innovindil gave a laugh, though she did notice that Catti-brie's voice took on a significant strain. She was trying to act brave, though the idea of Drizzt being ill really bothered her.

Maybe love was there after all.

00000000

"Just spread this part a little more," Nialian said softly.

Jarlaxle obliged, still not surprised that he had gone from feeling Drizzt's pulse, listening to his breathing, and passing Nialian the occasional blade to actually taking an active role in this operation. That role may have just included spreading the skin a little more and opening more of his friend's abdominal cavity…but nonetheless.

Nialian was at a crucial part of the procedure; the mass of red, bloated flesh that was Drizzt's appendix was now tied off and isolated. The cleric gently lifted the mass with his index finger and reached in with a long, thin blade. With a steady hand, he slowly sliced into the tissue, drawing a small trickle of blood as the mass gradually separated from the rest of the large intestine and was now removed from the young drow's body.

Nialian slowly lifted the scarred mass out and placed it in a small, white bowl on the table. He then let out a long sigh as Jarlaxle allowed himself a triumphant chuckle. Drizzt was mostly out of danger now. Nialian reached for the table and lifted a needle strung with a strand of enchanted dandelion root, which created a suture that was strong, yet would dissolve in time. He gently positioned the needle and put a small stitch in the open tissue where the appendix used to be.

Jarlaxle looked up from Nialian's work and turned his attention to Drizzt. He was still very much unconscious with his face bearing a look of peace. His chest gently rose and fell with each steady breath and Jarlaxle placed a finger on the inside of his wrist once again and felt a strong pulse.

"I guess you owe me yet again," he said softly, one of many words he spoke to Drizzt over the past hour he was sure were heard. "Though I do get the right to say I know you inside and out."

Nialian gave a gentle chuckle, yet his hands remained steady as his eyes did not leave his work once. Jarlaxle laughed and gave the cleric a warm smile before turning his attention back to Drizzt. He saw his friend draw a long breath, and then looked back down at Nialian's work, his eyes lazily trailing towards the wall, then back at Drizzt; in time to notice his chest did not rise.

It was a sight that gave Jarlaxle a chill. He waited for another second, though his chest remained still. The mercenary gently placed a hand on his throat to feel for air flow and only felt a weakening pulse. Jarlaxle freed his other hand and used the cleaner one to tilt Drizzt's head back while he leaned his own face over to hear his breath and mentally cursed; his friend had stopped breathing.

Jarlaxle immediately tilted Drizzt's head back further, pinched his nostrils shut with his bloody fingers, and clamped his open mouth over Drizzt's, exhaling one, long breath into his lungs. His chest rose in response, though did not rise again. Jarlaxle repeated his procedure and looked up enough to see Nialian feeling the pulse in his wrist first, and then clamping a firm hand on the inside of his elbow.

Jarlaxle ceased his breath for a second and turned his head. Drizzt finally let out one long, gasping breath and took his usual rhythm, though his breathing was shallow.

"His blood pressure just plummeted," Nialian said, running to the armoire, throwing it open, and producing a vile of pale yellow liquid.

The priest came beside Jarlaxle, put a finger under Drizzt's chin, uncorked the stopped with one finger, and slowly poured the liquid down his throat. The glistening elixir flowed past his tongue and was absorbed in his mouth. Almost instantly, his breathing grew stronger. Nialian lifted Drizzt's eyelids slightly and saw his pupils at the same dilation they took when he first went under.

Both elves let out respective sighs of relief. Nialian put the empty bottle back on the table and resumed his position.

"Well done," the priest said with a beaming smile. "I knew you were good for something."

Jarlaxle looked back down at Drizzt, feeling immense happiness at seeing his chest rise and fall with each strong breath.

"You know, I've almost gotten him killed a few times," Jarlaxle said with a pained laugh.

"I think this makes up for that, at least a little," Nialian replied, making one more tiny stitch. "Shears, please."

Jarlaxle resumed his own position, picking up a tiny pair of steel scissors and passing them handle first to Nialian. Nialian took the shears without a word and snipped the thread, handing the needle back to Jarlaxle, who replaced it on the table.

The room was deathly quiet; a quiet suddenly interrupted by a sharp gasp from the back of the tent. Both elves looked back and saw Catti-brie standing by the door, her eyes locked on Drizzt and a trembling hand covered her mouth.

She had just came in a second ago and expected to see Drizzt lying down, though she was immediately met with the sight of Drizzt laying down as Jarlaxle and Nialian held back the skin of his open abdominal cavity. His intestines were exposed and blood drenched the towels draped over his legs and chest. Catti-brie felt ill, a screaming chill running through every part of her being as her breathing became a mass of gasps that threatened sobs with every exhalation. She then felt small hands over her shoulders and felt them pull her back.

"Catti-brie, let's go," Innovindil said, pulling her away.

Catti-brie allowed herself to move back, not peeling her eyes off Drizzt until the tent flap came between them.

Nialian let out another pained sigh.

"Jarlaxle we are pretty much done," Nialian said in a grim tone, "I just need to close him up, and I can do that on my own. Go out and talk to Catti-brie. I know what happened between you two tonight, though I guarantee she will listen."

Jarlaxle gave Nialian an incredulous look, though he had no desire to question how the ancient elf gained such knowledge. He merely nodded, wiped his bloody hands off on a towel draped over the table, and gave Drizzt one more glance before turning and walking towards the door. He lifted the tent flap to see Catti-brie sitting on the ground, her face buried in her hands as she let out a series of dry sobs, every muscle trembling as Innovindil embraced her and whispered in her ear.

All Catti-brie could register was the warm embrace and the constant mental image of Drizzt lying unconscious with his insides fully exposed. It was an image that was too hard to bear. She had done nothing but scowl at him all night, now he was dying. Guilt, sorrow, terror: all these emotions pulsed through her body and came out with every sobbing breath.

Jarlaxle stood aside, waiting for a second for her fit to pass before he approached, knowing that if he said a word now, his own guts could be as exposed as Drizzt's. Innovindil looked up and gave him a questioning glance.

"What happened?" the moon elf gasped.

Catti-brie looked up and saw Jarlaxle standing over her, his hands still bearing traces of blood; Drizzt's blood. In a second, she was on her feet and ran over, her hands locking on the collar of his tunic and shaking him violently.

"What in the Nine Hells is going on, Jarlaxle!" she screamed, putting her tear streaked face directly into his.

Jarlaxle put his own hands on her shoulders and gradually held her back.

"Just calm down, for the fear of Lolth," he said.

Catti-brie's left hand left his tunic and a fist crashed into the side of his jaw, knocking him backwards and briefly stunned by the sudden punch he immediately cursed himself for not anticipating. He grabbed his jaw, feeling a trickle of warm ooze coming from his lip and tasting salt in his mouth. Jarlaxle's tongue probed the wound only to find the side of his cheek had scraped against his teeth. No teeth were loose and his jaw moved with only a slight ache.

Catti-brie's rage calmed slightly. She stood back and watched Jarlaxle spit out a wad of blood, her muscles still trembled, but she sobered at this sudden outburst; now feeling a slight pang of guilt for what she had done.

"Well at least teeth won't be coming out my arse," he replied, his speech slightly muffled.

"Just tell me what is wrong with Drizzt," Catti-brie said, her voice still cracked, though significantly calmer.

"You know how he was slammed by an orc's club last year, thought he broke his hip?" Jarlaxle replied, rubbing his hands and feeling the waxy membrane peeling. "It still bothers him on occasion."

Catti-brie nodded, feeling a burn form in her stomach.

"Well, it turns out his hip is fine," Jarlaxle continued, pulling off the membrane on his right hand. "He is, however, at the disadvantage of being an elf and therefore having his appendix located on the same side of his body as the impact."

Innovindil let out a small gasp. Catti-brie faced Jarlaxle expressionless, though she felt even more ill.

"The appendix was bruised, causing the occasional inflammation that led up to a major one tonight," Jarlaxle said, turning his attention to his other hand. "Nialian had no choice but to cure the illness through non-magical means and considering that all of his other clerics were indisposed, I was forcibly volunteered as his assistant. Don't worry, he is out of danger. Nialian is sewing him back up."

"What do you mean all his other clerics were indisposed?" Innovindil asked in a deeply perplexed tone. "We saw two of them just a few seconds ago milling around the grove. He would have known…"

Innovindil paused in a sudden realization. Jarlaxle froze where he stood and glared at her.

"And what would he have known?" the drow asked in a strained tone. "Are you telling me his four clerics were here all along?"

"Four?" Innovindil replied with a small laugh. "Nialian has at least eight in his service and six are here in this village as we speak."

Jarlaxle looked back down at his hand and continued peeling off the rest of the membrane, knowing full well what was going on; he had just been tested. Nialian lied to him, though a lie fitting of putting a shifty drow into a desirable position. The old priest wanted to make sure he was not as evil as the rest of his kin and was capable of saving the life of his friend's son. All he needed to do was coax him into assisting with the operation while keeping a few clerics nearby in case he failed the trial. Instead, he passed with flying colors; not only assisting but resuscitating Drizzt and delivering him from the brink of death. Jarlaxle felt both incensed and slightly humbled at the same time.

"All is well," Nialian called from the tent.

Catti-brie rushed over to him with Innovindil following close behind.

"Jarlaxle just told me what happened," Catti-brie said in a tone of desperation. "He had an appendicitis?"

"Due to the wound he received last year," the priest said with a clearing sigh, "his appendix did become badly inflamed. We operated, all went well up until the end when his blood pressure dropped dangerously low and he stopped breathing for a second."

Catti-brie let out another sob.

"He is fine now thanks to a potion that brought his blood pressure back up, though he could have been in more danger if Jarlaxle hadn't given him artificial respirations."

Catti-brie and Innovindil gave awed glances to Jarlaxle, who wiped his clean hands on the side on his trousers, keeping his gaze down, letting his rage abate slightly. He then looked up and met Catti-brie's gaze; her blue eyes red from tears and her face locked in a gratefully amazed expression. He knew he had been thanked, though she could manage no words.

"You're welcome," he said tersely.

Catti-brie flinched away from him and turned back to Nialian.

"How is he now?" she asked weakly.

"Everything is done and he is fine," Nialian replied. "He is now resting comfortably in a cot in my tent and he should wake very soon. I want him to stay in Moonwood until next sunset. He is out of danger and if all goes well, he should be fully healed within a tenday."

"Can I see him?" Catti-brie asked.

"Of course," Nialian said, gently putting a clean hand on her shoulder. "Though not for too long. He needs his rest and, I warn you, he will be very incoherent when he wakes. The potion needs another hour to fully wear off."

Catti-brie nodded, and then turned towards Innovindil and Jarlaxle. Innovindil came to Jarlaxle's side and gave Catti-brie an encouraging nod. Jarlaxle managed to look up and flashed her a wry smirk, which she took as a gesture of understanding. Nialian gently nudged her shoulder and she turned around and walked towards the tent.

Nialian opened the flap and both walked through. His gait was calm yet Catti-brie's legs threatened to fail her. She looked at the bench where Drizzt had once lain. The green cushion was exposed, yet the bloody linens peaked out from a black sack in the corner. She flinched her gaze away and allowed Nialian to take her through another tent flap that led to a long section lined with various plush cots.

All were empty, save for one in the back corner of the room. Drizzt Do'Urden lay sleeping, his eyes closed and his face in a look of peace. She noticed his complexion was slightly grayer, though she had seen him worse.

Like that one day when she was twelve-years-old. The day before, barbarians had attacked Ten Towns, but now the battle was over. Bruenor was in the caves tending to his young captive, Wulfgar. Catti-brie had gone into Bryn Shander, blue wildflowers picked fresh from the crags of Kelvin's Cairn clutched in one hand as she ran straight for a large, white tent that had been set up on the edge of town as a healing station for the battle wounded. She slowly opened the large, burlap flap, gave a nod of greeting to one of the village healers, before making a straight path towards one cot off to the side. The cot's dark-skinned occupant was asleep, his shoulder tightly bandaged after being smashed by the hammer of the barbarian king Heafstaag. Catti-brie practically skipped over to Drizzt, ignoring all of the glares she got from the other injured soldiers, whose sour expressions would turn to the dark elf, then to the little girl who should stay away from him.

Catti-brie had reached Drizzt's side, lifting his good arm and placing the stems of the flowers in his hand. His eyelids twitched for a second, then came open to regard his little friend with a weak smile. He lifted the blue flowers to his nose, inhaled their aroma, and his smile widened; it was the greatest gift she had ever given him.

Catti-brie's recollection faded to the current scene before her now that looked all too familiar. Drizzt was once again lying unconscious before her, only now the green blanket shifted slightly to reveal a bandage wrapped around his waist. She came to her knees and took his small hand, squeezing it to let him know she was there. Her eyes savored every line in his face, every ounce of ebony flesh that belonged to the man she could have lost. He is here now, she thought, running her fingers through his thick hair.

His eyelids fluttered for a second, then fully opened; his pupils constricting to an appropriate size as he looked first at the ceiling, then at Catti-brie. His face was still, then gradually curved into a wide smile.

"I'm here, Drizzt," she said, her voice cracking, "all is well.

"I…thought you were gone," he managed to whisper.

She continued running her hand through his white hair, a hand which eventually caressed the side of his face all the while not caring that Nialian was just a few feet away.

"Drizzt I don't care about anything that happened tonight," she burst out, tears pouring down her cheeks. "All I care about is you being here with me now and getting well. I am so, so sorry about how I treated you. I don't want such stupidity to break us apart. I'm so sorry!"

She burst into tears and laid her head on his chest. He slowly lifted a hand and gently rubbed her shoulder, eventually running his thin fingers through her auburn hair. It was a perfect moment, Catti-brie thought. Drizzt was alive and here with her now; nothing else mattered.

"I love you, Catti-brie," he cooed in her ear.

"I love you to, Drizzt darling," she replied, lifting her head and kissing him.

"Did you know you smell like Innovindil's hair?" he said lazily

A chill ran down her spine. Drizzt gave a light chuckle, obviously still under the effects of the sleeping potion.

"Sorry I missed it," he said again with another loud laugh.

Catti-brie smiled and laughed along, putting a hand through his hair once more.

He was here with her now and everything would be different.


	10. Rising Dawn

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

**Chapter 10: Rising Dawn**

Innovindil's small hand tightly held the small flap of canvas open while a small tear made its way down her cheek. She knew she should not be snooping like this: Nialian needed to examine Drizzt after his surgery in private, while Catti-brie desperately needed an unobserved moment with her lover. These were merely rational reasons that Innovindil tried to heed when the cleric and her human…lover entered the tent, and they were still in the back of her mind when she cautiously crept over to the back end of the healing tent and found a small flap she could open.

I just need to see Drizzt healthy and alive, she thought at last, finally breaking herself out of the hesitation and opening the flap at last. What she saw made her heart melt.

Drizzt was lying on a cot in the corner; his skin slightly gray, though his eyes were sleepily open as one hand gently combed slender, ebony fingers through the deep auburn hair of the woman whose head rested on his bare chest. Catti-brie was kneeling at the side of the bed, head down, and eyes closed with her back rising and falling with each relaxed breath; completely asleep with a peaceful smile on her face. Innovindil could see Nialian out of the corner of her eye holding two fingers to the inside of Drizzt's wrist before moving his hand to the inside of his elbow and concentrating. Drizzt would occasionally look up at him and the two would exchange soft words Innovindil could not hear, yet it was obvious he was conscious enough to speak.

Despite the occasional trail, her blue orbs would always return to that beautiful sight; two lovers who had become estranged by time and misadventure were united in a harrowing moment. Catti-brie truly loved Drizzt, Innovindil thought as a warm comfort of complete happiness found its way into her heart. Unfortunately it took him falling gravely ill for her to realize that.

It was another thought Innovindil did not want to consider now; she had almost lost another lover. He is still alive, she thought with a clearing sigh, thanks to Nialian's healing and the sudden efforts of an unusual dark elf: the same dark elf leaning over her shoulder now, his breath softly caressing her neck as he stood and watched this scene with just as much interest as she.

"You couldn't help yourself, could you," Jarlaxle said in a mock scolding tone, though he knew her answer would be the same as his.

Innovindil looked over at the drow, whose chin practically rested on her shoulder; her blue eyes meeting his orbs of bright ruby. It was a sight that was unnerving at first, but the orbs seemed to have a certain spark that she found absolutely beautiful. She merely smiled in response to his question and looked back at the beautiful couple in the tent.

Drizzt's eyes were roaming around the tent as he tried to reorient himself and fully shake off the numbing effects of the potion. He heard every word that Nialian had told him, yet he knew their full weight would only come on him later. In the meantime, his hazy lavender orbs frequently traveled to Catti-brie's peaceful, sleeping form; her warm body and sweet breath sending waves of complete joy through every part of his being. He then looked at Nialian's peaceful face, those green eyes filled with wisdom and that lined face filled with care, making him feel completely safe. Feeling the weight of sleep on him once again, he allowed his eyes to trail around the tent; to the other cots in front and beside him, the roof, where several dried flowers hung from the top canopy, to the back, where he saw a flap of canvas slightly ajar and a pair of blue-gold eyes watching him intently.

Drizzt let his hazy vision focus on those beautiful eyes, that soft golden hair, and that beautiful face that wore a look of concern, while a small tear ran down her cheek. He gave her large grin, his eyes then spying the bald, ebon skinned elf next to her trying to keep a cool expression, yet his own eyes were almost completely red. His eyes shifted to both of them and smiled wide. Innovindil gave a slight, embarrassed chuckle, knowing she had been caught while Jarlaxle smiled and nodded his head in greeting. Nialian noticed Drizzt's expression and turned his gaze towards the back of the tent, then smiling and putting up a small hand in a wave of beckoning.

Innovindil practically flung the tarp open, stepping through gracefully, though she felt a mass of nerves threaten to weaken her knees. Jarlaxle paused for a second, then carefully tiptoed in, his own nerves somewhat frayed by everything that he had just walked out of. Then there was the sight of seeing Drizzt awake and alert, his lavender eyes partially open focused on him and face in a large smile. Jarlaxle bowed his head low, a smile forming small at first, then growing into a full grin.

Drizzt gave a small laugh as Innovindil carefully came beside Nialian to one knee, her lips meeting Drizzt's in a small peck as her hands gently clasped his bare shoulders. Jarlaxle came beside her, keeping close to Drizzt yet maintaining a distance from Nialian; a person he was not overly happy with right now. He put his hand down and Drizzt weakly clasped his forearm as he leaned down with his other arm and gave Drizzt a loose embrace.

"Welcome back to the living, _abbil_," Jarlaxle whispered in his ear before coming back up.

"You're my savior, _shebali_," Drizzt replied weakly. "I guess I owe you."

"Future favors?" Jarlaxle asked with a wider grin.

Drizzt gave a low chuckle.

"Why not?" he replied

"Within reason, of course," Jarlaxle added in a tone of deference, tousling his thick, white hair.

"You are surrounded by friends tonight, Drizzt," Nialian said softly, making sure not to wake Catti-brie. "You should consider yourself blessed."

Drizzt gave a long sigh as he looked down at the sleeping woman, then at the moon elf, then his fellow drow.

"Indeed I do," Drizzt replied, putting his fingers through Catti-brie's hair once again.

Catti-brie gave a small, light groan, before shifting her head position though not waking.

"She was completely distraught when she found you were ill," Innovindil said.

"Indeed," Jarlaxle added, rubbing his still, sore jaw.

Drizzt noticed the dried blood and the split skin around his lip and could only imagine the circumstances under which he got that injury. He could only give a dirty chuckle that was significantly muted by his waning energy, which was not lost on Nialian.

"Drizzt, I think you could use some rest now," the old priest said.

Drizzt nodded and rubbed one eye with the back of his hand.

Innovindil bent down and kissed him on forehead. Jarlaxle gave him another pat on the shoulder, and then flashed Nialian a pointed look.

"You rest," Jarlaxle said, turning his attention back to Drizzt, whose eyelids were growing noticeably heavier. "I'd hate for my efforts to be wasted."

"You are too kind," Drizzt replied.

"We will be back," Innovindil said, putting a gentle hand through his hair and walking towards the back flap and blowing him a kiss before exiting.

Jarlaxle followed her, before turning around on his heel and blowing an exaggerated kiss to Drizzt before giving Nialian a small sneer and walking out.

Jarlaxle found his way back outside and inhaled the fresh night air. Innovindil stood a few feet away and looked at him. She caught a glimpse of his silent exchange with Nialian and knew he was upset; probably for very good reason. Jarlaxle glanced at her, noticing her curious gaze, and giving her a pointed glare back; the two standing for a second in a thick, uncomfortable silence.

"Nialian lied to you," Innovindil said at last.

"You are very observant," Jarlaxle replied in a biting tone.

"Why do you think he did that?" Innovindil asked, meeting his harsh gaze.

"A good question indeed," Jarlaxle replied sarcastically, putting up his index finger before tapping it against his pointed chin. "Why would a priest of Arunshee's betrayed consort lie to one of her vile children that allowed him to assist in a major operation performed on a member of his blaspheming kin; essentially saving his life when he could have killed him as easily? Very curious indeed."

Jarlaxle threw his hand down and gave Innovindil a calm glare, yet she remained expressionless

"I believe you already know the answer to that," she replied firmly.

Jarlaxle gave a forced cackle that communicated more frustration than mirth.

"Ah yes," he said with another harsh laugh, "one of Nialian Springleaf's little enigmas meant to bring out the 'goodness' in all beings."

"You are an excellent judge of character," Innovindil added with a disarming smile. She paused, not knowing if she should say what was on her mind next. "You have to understand that Nialian has worked for many years with…"

"…The Followers of Eilistraee," Jarlaxle added with a smirk. "Yes, those 'goodly' drow with which he spent the rough equivalent of a century as a healer and advocate, protecting them from both the goodly folk and their not so goodly kin of the spider and the mask."

Innovindil froze, her eyes going wide as her jaw dropped slightly. Jarlaxle put a finger to the bottom of her chin and gently closed her mouth with a smirking sneer. Judging by this look, Jarlaxle knew he had said too much…or he was just beginning to speak.

"Let me tell you a little story," he said, taking a step back. "Once upon a time, oh about three hundred fifty years ago in the magical land of Menzoberranzan, there lived this young drow; a soldier, a member of the guard of the First House, to be exact. He was but a lowly soldier, but, for reasons still unknown in the expanse of the universe, the First Matron favored him a little more than some of her other soldiers, so she would give him special assignments: spy missions, assassinations, happy activities of the like, you get the picture.

"Well, the House Weapon Master was not overly fond of all the attention the young soldier was receiving; no higher reason than it annoyed him. So, one glorious day, he decides to send our hero and a few of his fellows to a surface mission, which you personally will not like; reconnaissance against the surface elves, finding their defensive weak spots so the evil drow could move against them with less fear of defeat. So pleasant, but this was the young drow's mission and he obediently went down all the right paths and ended up in the middle of some horrible surface woods, only they found no elves. It turns out the elves had abandoned that land a decade ago after tribes of orcs claimed this as their territory. The Weapon Master knew this all along; the company only found out the second the smelly creatures found the trespassers.

"To make a long story short, the three fellows were literally torn to shreds. Our hero was impaled by a spear and thrown down a rocky hill like a rag doll; both his legs being cracked into small slivers of bone held in place by some tissue while his affected lung was deflating like a pigskin balloon. Our hero, whilst choking on his own blood, knew he had fought his last battle. Then, something strange happened; the dying young soldier looked up and finally found a surface elf."

Innovindil's gaze was locked on Jarlaxle, though she did see Nialian coming out of the tent from the corner of her vision. Jarlaxle noticed Innovindil's eye shift and looked behind to see the priest ambling toward them with a sad look.

"He will be alright?" Innovindil asked.

"Drizzt is doing remarkably well," Nialian replied, a small smile coming on his face as a tiny hand came up in a gesture of peace. "I gave him a few potions to restore the blood that was lost and prevent any infection and he is a bit healthier now, though he still needs his rest."

Innovindil rushed past Jarlaxle and threw her arms around Nialian, who returned the embrace with a gleeful chuckle. His green eyes then fell to Jarlaxle, who gave a small bow, though his face was still serious. Innovindil pulled back and watched the silent exchange of glances between the drow and the priest and everything was perfectly clear.

"Jarlaxle, if you will, I would like to hear more of the story," Nialian said.

Jarlaxle smirked.

"Actually, I believe there are some details of which I am unaware," the mercenary said. "Perhaps I should give the torch to you for a second."

"Fair enough," Nialian replied with a bow of the head.

Innovindil pulled away from Nialian and stared at him intently, noticing his bright eyes becoming a bit sad.

"The surface elf the young drow saw in his dying moment was a moon elf, a lifelong servant of Corellon who was trying to escape himself. It had been five years since his wife and companion of over a century had died of fever, their children scattering to the winds and him being left alone. He had taken his solitude in the High Forest; living in a tiny cabin of his own making and working as a healer and guide to passing rangers and adventurers as a poor attempt to keep occupied and avoid smothering himself in loneliness. One night, he was reading a few old scrolls when he heard a horrible row about a mile away. He put on his sword and ran from the house. What he found was pools of blood, the bodies of a few orcs…and the mutilated corpses that, on closer inspection, he identified as dark elves.

"The priest looked around, trying to find any potential other drow, when he heard a groan in one of the fallen trees. He looked down to see a young drow crumbled underneath the branches; clad in the armor of the Spider Queen, his blood flowing like a river as the life was seeping from him; bright red eyes almost pleading."

Nialian looked at Jarlaxle, who took a few paces away before coming to a small mound in the grass and lying down, his hands behind his bald head and his face in a looked of amused anticipation. Innovindil looked down at him in awe, then back at the cleric.

"There was a tiny part of him that was tempted to walk away and leave him to his fate," Nialian continued. "Though the louder voice in his soul was the one to which he listened. The priest leaned down, laid his hands on the young soldier's broken body, and prayed to Corellon that this child of Lolth may be healed. His god granted the spell and kept the drow from dying. The priest then slung him over his shoulder, expecting a struggle or a knife in the back at any time, but neither came. He took him into his cabin, fed him, and gave him spells and potions, and the drow healed.

"Remarkably, the young soldier seemed very grateful to the surface elf, thanking him politely and even engaging him in bits of conversation. The priest was rather taken aback for this dark elf bore no animosity towards his surface cousin at all. In fact he spent much time ranting against the society and the house that sent him here in the first place. The priest had lived for a several hundred years and counted himself an excellent judge of character, and he knew this one dark elf was different from his kin in so many ways. The moon elf continued healing his ward and became rather fond of thee drow. The two would spend many hours talking, playing little games. Occasionally he would take him out and show him the wonders of the surface world; the constellations, the sunrise, all the many plants and trees, and the priest knew that Corellon had sent him here as a gift."

"A gift?" Jarlaxle asked.

"A way to salve his own wounds while bringing a youngling of his dark kin to the ways of the light," Nialian replied.

"But, it did not turn out that way, did it?" Jarlaxle added grimly.

Nialian closed his eyes and gave a long sigh.

"The priest felt an affection for the lad he could not describe," Nialian continued, his voice becoming more strained. "He wanted to think he considered the drow a son. Though that was a description with which he was never comfortable. Then came one night three days after the attack; Midsummer's Eve, to be exact."

Jarlaxle's eyes narrowed in puzzlement, an expression not lost on Nialian.

"A night that would mean nothing to the soldier at the time," the cleric continued, "but the passion was there nonetheless. The soldier became a bit closer to the priest and the priest let go of himself at last, allowing himself the feelings that he had harbored all along. It was a moment of pure abandon that led to a moment of…happiness; the greatest peace the old man had known in too long. He gave himself fully; not to submit, but to allow himself trust."

Nialian paused and closed his eyes as a small tear came from one eye. Innovindil allowed herself a small gasp as she looked first at Nialian, then at Jarlaxle as she tried to absorb every ounce of information that was being thrown to her. Jarlaxle raised himself to a sitting position and stared at him; fully taking in that look of pain and allowing it to squeeze on his heart.

"The dark elf saw it as an easy score at first," Jarlaxle added with a slight crack in his voice, "but experienced a beauty he had never known. There were many more moment between them, and the drow even allowed himself to be taken a few times. A gesture of humility maybe, or maybe it was his own way of knowing trust. Then as a tenday passed, it was clear the priest wanted more from him than just physical pleasure."

"He truly wanted to save the soul of the first person he had come to love since his own love was taken," Nialian said almost desperately as a wave of emotions began to pour out. "The first companion he had in five dark years; the one who gave him some hope for the future. The drow was his lover; a lost soul he could rescue so they could be fully united under the light. He felt it was his duty to both his god and his heart to share tales about those who had forsaken the evils of Lolth and come to the Lands of the Light…"

"'Beneath the sun again where trees and flowers grow,'" Jarlaxle added with a long sigh.

"The greeting of Eilistraee," Innovindil said, her own voice not beyond a whisper.

"The young drow listened out of respect," Jarlaxle continued, "but was having none of it for whatever reason. A few days later, he was fully healed and knew his rightful place was in Menzoberranzan; the Land of the Light held too many dangers and lacked the comfort of his caverns. There was another reason why he wanted to be away, but even he had yet to fully determine that. He waited until the dark of night on his eve of his second tenday on the surface when the old priest was in Reverie. The he stole a bottle of wine and a fold of waybread and followed the same routes back to his home city with no further incident. He returned to Menzoberranzan and to his house, where he was immediately allowed an audience with his Matron, told of the treachery of her Weapon Master and all the heroic things he did on the surface…" he turned his gaze to Nialian "including a story about the idiot faerie he made pity him enough to supply healing spells before the soldier had his way with him."

"A story he was pleased to tell?" Nialian asked with a forced smile.

"A story meant to keep him alive so Lolth would never be able to call him a liar," Jarlaxle replied with a sneer.

Nialian nodded and smiled warmly. He had his answer.

"The young soldier was returned to his regiment," Jarlaxle continued, "and the Weapon Master was flogged for his attempt to kill such an honorable soldier. He would later go on to a successful career as a soldier, where he honed his skills and developed an immense dislike for everything he fought for. Maybe he was becoming cynical, maybe generally fed up, or maybe the words of the priest struck him a little harder than he cared to admit. Regardless, a hundred years later, he ran from his house; falling in with a rag tag band of mercenaries, whose leader's throat he would slit and build his own empire."

"Did he kill any others?" Nialian asked firmly.

"Many, many times," Jarlaxle added with a sneer.

"Did he torture?"

"Yes, but was never proud of it."

"Did he rape?"

"Never."

"Did he return again to the Lands of the Light? Honor the memory of a murdered friend by protecting his son?"

Jarlaxle paused as a tightness formed in the back of his throat.

"Yes," he aid in the strongest voice he could muster.

"Then the young drow saved his soul after all," Nialian said. "And he would make the old priest a happy man."

Jarlaxle slowly rose to his feet and stared at Nialian, absorbing the small smile that crept over his face and the bright look in his eyes. They exchanged no words, but these looks alone spoke everything for them; three hundred fifty years worth of words exchanged in one moment. Innovindil glanced at both of them, her expression of pure awe still in tact as a small tear streamed down her check; the only response she could make to savor this perfect moment.

The light swish of the sweet, Midsummer breeze was joined by the light, airy call of many pan pipes sounding at once in a perfect, mournful chord. Jarlaxle and Innovindil turned in the direction of the breathtaking sound, while Nialian closed his eyes and smiled more brightly. He then turned his green-gold eyes to the sky, absorbing the beautiful hue of darkest indigo it took. The bright moon was fading, but the golden sun would arrive in a little over an hour. He then turned back to Jarlaxle, his lost and found lover, and Innovindil, one of his dearest most compassionate friends and noticed how beautiful these fair creatures looked standing in front of him.

"The evening is almost over," Nialian said softly. "Moonwood will be enjoying one last celebration before another Midsummer is put to rest. If I'm not mistaken, I believe there is a little dance in need of your presence."

Nialian savored their expressions of momentary confusion, before Innovindil gave a devilish smirk; the evening's last dance was about to begin. She turned to Jarlaxle, taking his arm, and watching a large grin form. The drow looked back at Nialian's calm, yet amused expression, then back at the radiant moon elf next to him, and understood perfectly. He bowed his head and motioned an arm in the direction of the blown melody.

The old priest took in one last look of them both, before bowing low and walking past them in the direction of the village, keen ears hearing the light footsteps of two elves following close behind.

0000000000

Drizzt gently nudged Catti-brie to the side as he gathered his growing, yet muted strength and slowly slipped from the side of the cot; setting the sleeping woman gently on the pillow as he came to a sitting position, allowing himself the momentary dizziness before regaining his bearings as he positioned himself on the edge of the mattress. He braced his arms behind him and stretched, immediately greeted by the aching stiffness from the fresh stitches in the side of his lower abdomen. The momentary wave faded and Drizzt gave a small chuckle. This was the type of pain he was used too; the itching burn of his skin as it healed from the slice of a blade. This was infinitely preferable to the fiery agony that assaulted every part of his being earlier.

He planted his feet on the floor and forced his leg muscles to pull him upward. They did so with small protest, though soon he was on his feet; wobbling and disoriented at first, though steady after a momentary press of will. Drizzt put another foot forward, shifted his weight, and allowed himself another wobbly step, figuring the potions Nialian had given him worked well. Just an hour ago, he was completely prone with little comprehension of his surroundings; just awakening from the potion as his body reacted to the great amount of blood he lost during the operation. A few potions later, he was feeling infinitely better.

He braced himself against a tent pole, one arm balancing his weight, while the other reaching instinctively for the white, blood spotted bandage around his torso. He gently lifted the wrapping and peered down to see the red, swollen skin around a two inch line that led down the side of his abdomen, starting at his navel and ending at the top of his hip joint; small bands of dark green thread strung snugly through his dark flesh and a tiny bit of blood oozed from the wound, though he could see much of it drying already. Drizzt grimaced slightly and replaced the bandage in its original position, giving a long sigh.

The operation was over. The bloated mass of tissue that was his appendix was now in a fireplace, Nialian had told him. He had been put to sleep, cut open, had a part of his intestines cut out, was sewn back up, and survived…though barely. The reality of what the cleric told him was now just beginning to set in; he nearly died during the procedure, though Jarlaxle had saved him, giving him breathes when his had failed and bringing them back and him out of danger. Drizzt paused on that thought and smirked; nothing that evening had any greater importance.

"Drizzt," a tired, yet worried voice called from behind.

He slowly looked back to see Catti-brie rubbing her eyes and leaning on one elbow, allowing himself a moment to drink in the most beautiful woman in the world.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," she said, coming to a sit.

"You know how I can't stay still for long," he replied, smile still in tact.

Drizzt fully positioned his body around and stepped forward; the tightness in his abdomen once again reminding him of its presence. He winced slightly as he came forward. Catti-brie snapped to her feet and held her arms out to him with a look of complete worry. He held his hands up and continued forward. Catti-brie took her seat back on the bed and positioned her hands on Drizzt's waist, guiding him as he sat at the edge of the cot with a small groan.

"How're you feeling?" she asked, sitting by his side and looking at him.

"A little sore, a little drawn out," he replied, "butt otherwise fine. Nialian is indeed a skilled cleric."

Her look of worry melted into a small smile.

"He did good work," she said, her beaming eyes locked on Drizzt's face. "You're here now."

He looked over at her and saw a look of true, deep concern; the most desperate and sincere expression he had seen from her in a year. Drizzt gazed at her and lifted a hand he ran though her hair. She gave a relieved sigh at the touch and closed her eyes to savor his small, gentle fingers running through her thick, auburn locks.

"Catti-brie what happens after tonight?" he asked in a whisper, his smile straightening as his voice cracked slightly with the wave of emotion threatening to burst forth.

She paused, her lower lip trembling slightly as she felt the burn as well.

"After tonight," she replied, her voice firm, yet pleading, "you get better. You'll stay here as long as Nialian wants you to and then I'll take you back to Mithril Hall. The orcs will have to savor another day, because in the meantime, I'll be making sure you get rest and take your medicine, and I won't be a push-over about that, Drizzt Do'Urden."

Drizzt let out a gleeful laugh that conjured a few tears.

"What about Deudermont?" Drizzt asked, bracing himself for whatever answer he may receive next.

Catti-brie moved her lips as if attempting to speak, though the words seemed too wrapped in threatening tears.

"He'll just have to wait 'til you're healed," she said. "If that happens before he shoves off, then I'm draggin' your skinny, elf arse to Waterdeep and we're huntin' pirates."

Drizzt looked down at the floor as he let the words sink in: she was staying with him. They would be together. He grabbed Catti-brie by the shoulders and kissed her passionately, tears flowing down his ebony cheeks as he basked in the wave of happiness. Catti-brie gave a small sob and kissed him with just as much vigor. She wrapped her arms around his small body and pulled him in closer, feeling those strong, wiry arms embrace her in the greatest moment she had known in too long.

"Catti-brie," Drizzt whispered in her ear, "Despite all that has happened, this year or last or ever, I have never stopped loving you. I don't give a damn about anything you did tonight; for the only thing that would break my heart was knowing that I had lost yours."

Catti-brie clutched him tighter, her eyes red and overflowing with tears.

"I don't care, either, Drizzt," she said at last to her lover and to herself, feeling every word. "I was a fool for treating you how I did. I love you so much and I cannot bear the thought of losing you for such petty reasons."

They embraced, savoring the warmth of each other's body and the bliss of their lovers' mere presence; Catti-brie was here, and Drizzt was just alive, nothing else mattered in that moment of pure paradise.

"And you were right about one thing," she managed to whisper. "I wouldn't care if you laid half the ladies and half the lords tonight, or any night for that matter."

Drizzt managed a cracked laugh as he remembered saying those words during their horrible fight at the beginning of the evening, recalling another part...

"Though, yes, I did care when your entrails were ripped out," she continued.

Drizzt laughed harder, burying his head in her shoulder.

"Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy," he said with a groan, eliciting a small laugh from Catti-brie.

He raised his head to peer into those beautiful blue eyes once again, and then kissed her. It was a kiss of pure love; a display of blissfully comfortable affection with the woman whose heart he still had. The tender kiss took on more passion, Catti-brie's hands trailing down his chest as he squeezed her shoulders tighter. One hand gently traced down the center of his abdomen, playfully tucking a finger to the unaffected skin under the bandage, before bringing it out. She knew she should just return the hand to his chest, but her unconscious mind gently brushed the bandage before pressing harder against the bare flesh at his pelvis, then gently clasping another part of his body that seemed eager for some use. Drizzt gave a sigh at the touch and let his head fall back as Catti-brie kept her gentle grasp, which tightened slightly. He clutched he shoulders tighter and pulled her in harder.

"Do you remember the first time we made love?" she whispered in his ear. "You had just come back to Mithril Hall and I was still on a cane from having my hip caved in. I remembered you sweeping me off my feet and carrying me into your room. It was the first time you had ever been with a woman and my hip felt completely awful. Then you began; you did everything so perfectly, keeping me comfortable and making the ache completely melt away."

"I can never forget," he whispered back, his voice taking a small gasp as Catti-brie increased her grip.

"So, how's your side feeling," she said, a smile coming over her face.

"Sore," he replied, his own smile firmly in place. "Do you think you can help me with that?"

Catti-brie grinned and continued kissing him, her hand coming off his lower body as she took his own hand and guided it towards her trouser strings. Drizzt slowly undid the strings and gently pulled the trousers down as Catti-brie kicked her boots to the ground, her pants following close behind. She gently guided him on his back as she swung a leg and took her position over him.

"Just be careful," he whispered, looking up and savoring her beautiful form and that wonderful auburn hair; savoring everything that was Catti-brie.

She gently lowered herself and took him inside, her knee accidentally brushing his left hip and sending a slight twinge that made him wince. Catti-brie paused with a look of concern.

"It's fine," he said, "just continue."

She braced her arms on his shoulders and began her gentle thrust and felt the rush begin. Drizzt laid his head back into the feather pillow and relaxed, feeling the growing, blissful warmth traveling upwards from his phallus and spreading through the rest of his body. He let out a harsh sigh, his energy slowly returning the lingering effects of the potion fully dissipated. All the while, looking up and seeing Catti-brie in her most perfect form. Looking down at him with absolute affection as her gently thrusts became slightly faster and sweet sighs poured from those beautiful lips.

Catti-brie savored the flesh of the man she loved dearly; he she had been so distant from, he who she had almost lost, he who she was blissfully taking in now as she watched the peacefully happy look on his face and felt his soft hair between her fingers and soft lips brushing against her palm. It was a consummation of a beautiful love; a couple appreciating each other as if for the first time. Their bodies were united in this perfect moment, the heat spreading through both, sighs and moans being let go from their mouths as their hands explored each other's wonderful form.

Drizzt felt the tightness beginning to form in the lower part of his body as the rush was gradually building. His senses were caught in a beautiful, cosmic moment as he looked up at his beautiful Catti-brie and felt her flesh begin to tighten. He let out a series of long, harsh moans that joined in harmony with her lilting sighs growing harder. The two were now joined and the rush passed through both of them at the exact same moment.

The rush then faded, as both simply looked at each other and gave a happy comfortable smile. Catti-brie slowly withdrew and came to his side, her arm flopping over his chest as her head rested on his shoulder. He threaded an arm around her body and pulled her in, letting his cheek brush against her forehead.

The two lovers lay still, catching their breath and savoring the relaxing calm of each other's presence.

Author's Note: Next chapter, the conclusion of "Midsummer.


	11. Epilogue: A New Sunrise

**Midsummer**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.

**Epilogue: A New Sunrise**

"_Expect the evening's song to be a discordant wail of the sweetest harmony."_

_Those were the words that crossed my lips as I read the runestones that had fallen in place at the beginning of this evening. It was Midsummer's Eve and the night of a full moon in addition; all these elements coming togetherand ensuring that the evening would be chaotic in the most wonderful way. This prediction would also apply to the fates of five individuals whose paths would cross that night under this wonderful haze: five runestones representing the five elements touching in a perfect circle._

_Not to sound boastful, but my predictions are usually right._

_It was on this evening of wonderful chaos when five souls, bound together by fate and misadventure, crossed paths at last and made their peace with each other: all fates united by love, trust, and all the ties that went as deep as the heart. _

_Drizzt Do'Urden and Catti-brie Battlehammer were two stoic warriors who bore a long and deep affection for one another, though their own naiveté and personal honor prevented them for expressing this love. When they were finally joined, it was only under inevitable circumstances that they realized they did not know themselves let alone each other. Added to this mix was the presence of Innovindil of Moonwood and Jarlaxle Baenre, two elves of completely different backgrounds and philosophies, yet joined by a common lust for life and unquenchable passion, though I refuse to consider the argument that Innovindil, a goodly, moon elf warrior, is a free spirit while Jarlaxle, a drow mercenary of less righteousness, is a wanton tyrant. Passion is passion and both possessed it in great amounts. However, both of them were lonely souls too who needed the warmth of another's presence, though they both maintained facades of complete independence. It was on this evening when these four were united in body mind and spirit; the two, stoic creatures giving in to their denied passions while the free spirits learned to appreciate another._

_I, as predicted by the stones, would be the fifth element merely observing this drama unfolding, though I possessed my own piece of this circle. Yes, I started as the casual observer, but then I was made fully aware that the spirits wanted me some peace as well. When I was first summoned to the barracks at the beginning of the evening to deal with a sudden problem, I had no idea that I would be reunited with a man who had been my lover and my heart's passion in so many ways. Three hundred fifty years later, Jarlaxle and I were facing each other once again; both of us completing out own circle after over three centuries down our own paths. If controlled fate all those centuries ago, Jarlaxle and I may still be together, or at least that was my dream. I wanted him to formally forsake the evil of The Spider Queen, follow the path of Eilistraee, and remain with me in the forest, where we would live peacefully as healers and defenders of nature and the goodly folk. Looking back on it now, there was no way I could be sure that was the right path._

_Then he was gone, and I feared it would be for eternity. Then he came into my life again. In my eighth century when I cannot be sure how many more I have, Jarlaxle Baenre was in front of me once more. Even past his fourth century, he is still the handsome devil I met when he was barely into manhood; his body even more taut and wiry than he was as a youth, his face taking the lines of a hard life, though still beautiful. I do have to admit I miss that mane of smooth, white locks I used to run my fingers through during our quiet moments, though complete baldness does suit him. _

_Even in this blissful reunion, I could not be sure of the man he had become, though I was very pleased with what I saw. Did he forsake Lolth? Maybe she was never in his heart to begin with. Did he embrace goodness? It is obvious he did not, yet me does have a heart and affection that most of his kin do not. It was in the span of this evening that I had finally made peace with this man who has haunted my heart for so long and I made my final conclusion about Jarlaxle Baenre: he follows his own path and woe betide the one, mortal or otherwise, who tries to change that._

_It was out of this respect that I approached Captain Talina early in the evening about recovering the items that had been taken from Jarlaxle by both the pixies in their well-meaning mischief and the elves out of safety. I did have to do quite a bit of wrangling and negotiating, though I did make some compromise: Jarlaxle would get back his items as soon as they were inspected for any potential malevolent aura, though I would present them to him as soon as he was outside the limits of Moonwood. It was just after midnight that Talina presented me with a box containing his effects. Her and her soldiers successfully, though reluctantly, collected most of his jewels and garments from the pixies and, while they did radiate magic and concealed weapons, none of them were unholy and all had a practical purpose. _

_I assisted Jarlaxle in many ways that night, though it was by accident that I gained knowledge of the full drama that unfolded between these four. While I feel almost guilty for the knowledge, I fully believe that the spirits wanted me to know for the good of all, and I do believe that purpose was accomplished. While waiting for Jarlaxle to recover from the effects of the memory restoration, I could hear the horrible row between Drizzt and Catti-brie; all the harsh words, all the curses, making my heart ache more than it already did. It was on my travel back to the village after my moment with Jarlaxle that I heard the passioned screams that belonged to both Drizzt and Innovindil and their cause was obvious. A second later, my vision caught the purple flames and saw Catti-brie wreathed in them. I stood firm, expecting Jarlaxle to cause some dark mischief, yet instead I witnessed a woman desperate to find herself seducing a consummate gentleman who did give into his own passion, though on her aggressive urging. I did overhear Jarlaxle and Drizzt joking about whatever might be going on between Catti-brie and Innovindil and I have to admit I was assuming the same thing. After all, Jarlaxle was here because of my own experimenting; experimenting that became more to me._

_Though it would be at the end of the evening when I stopped being a mere witness and found myself getting more involved for the sake of one of their lives. Drizzt Do'Urden came to my tent an ill man, one with a bane in his body that could claim his life at any time. It was in that moment when I realized Drizzt could only be cured through physical means that the circle had to be joined. I have performed thousands of appendectomies in my life and it is a relatively easy procedure that I could have done alone, yet all I needed was an assistant with a basic knowledge of anatomy. I decided to fully test Jarlaxle by making him believe he could be the only one available to assist me for the sake of Drizzt's life. _

_He could have stormed off, not even done his duty at all, or worse, used this as the most perfect opportunity to take his kinsman's life for whatever purpose. Instead, he preformed his duty with the utmost care and even noticed when Drizzt had stopped breathing, even resuscitating him. Words cannot even express how happy I was then, how much I finally saw a decent man in one who could have easily become a monster. Yes, I did this through manipulation, though I feel it was for the good of all. I did have several clerics on call who were just a few feet away and could easily have subdued Jarlaxle and rescued Drizzt if any malevolence was done. I do not blame Jarlaxle for being angry with me, though I knew at the end of the evening that we had at last reached our understanding. _

_And then the evening drew to a close. An evening of such passion and strife, where so many lives were changed over the course of a few hours, was at last nearing its end._

_I spent the remainder of the evening in a quiet peace, taking a perch beside a large pine tree, savoring its sweet aroma of fresh pitch as I watched my people in their revelry. Midsummer's Eve was drawing to a close and the people of Moonwood were sending out the evening in a dance of calm joy. I occasionally looked up at the sky and saw the endless dome taking a shade of brilliant violet as the moon was descending and the sun was announcing its upcoming presence. The music swept out from the trees and I peered through the brush to see a small parade of satyrs circling the grove, yet only making their presence known in their music; haunting chords in perfect harmony. The sky was aglow, the leaves were waving merrily in the sweet breeze, and my people were united in love and happiness._

_It was in this time that I found myself not able to peel my vision away from the two most unlikely figures in this circle. My dear friend Innovindil, her beautiful, golden hair caressing her shoulders, had taken the ebony hand of her partner, Jarlaxle; his red eyes almost glowing along with the wide grin on his handsome face. It was now when I truly had the best view of this couple; her skin of bright white and his skin of purest black bore a radiance in the moonlight. They were two, lithe figures testing their energy and grace, dancing in perfect unison with the mournful melody that bore a slight hint of a happy beat._

_I could only smile, for this seemed the overall theme of the evening. I watched as Innovindil and Jarlaxle, two complete strangers who knew no natural hatred for each other's race, were now exchanging happy glances and the occasional whispered word. I then thought back to the couple in the healing tent: Drizzt and Catti-brie, after a year of strife, were together again at last. When I last left them she was sleeping and he was still recovering from his appendectomy. They could still have been left in each other's arms, yet there was a small part of me that hoped both were completely awake and alert and fully savoring their privacy; for some gentle lovemaking would be most wonderful for both. _

_I realized I was too lost in my thoughts to notice the rest of the dance, my attention focusing once again on the one, low note of the panpipes as the dancers came still and faced each other, savoring each others' beauty as they savored the sweet music. I looked to my favorite couple and saw the same was true. Innovindil gave a curtsey as the music ended, a mischievous grin over her beautiful face. Jarlaxle bowed low, giving her that devilish smile that I always found so handsome. Both rose and faced each other in one lingering moment before looking around the grove, then back at me. _

_We exchanged a few happy words, though I could tell both were completely at bliss for whatever reason. My bliss, however, slightly sagged when I told Jarlaxle that I had his effects and would present them to him once I teleported him back to Cormyr. It was now when I fully realized what this meant; this evening of complete happiness was truly almost over and our little group would scatter to our own ways. It was a thought that made me sad, though for some reason, I was completely satisfied._

_Our talk soon became quiet. I simply walked past them with my own smile, hearing those light steps come behind me. At last, my old legs took me back to the healing tent. I was about to step inside, then I saw a flash of white hair from behind a tree adjacent to the tent and knew my ward was feeling well enough to be out. I walked over to the tree and saw Drizzt leaning against it, re-clad in his green tunic and wearing the cotton leggings I had provided for him earlier. Catti-brie sat beside him, her auburn hair tossed over his shoulder as she rested her head on his chest. His hand was running through her hair and she gently ran a finger over the top of one bare, ebony foot; both faces locked in complete, peaceful happiness and their eyes glowing with love._

_I stood still and savored this moment of absolute peace. It was then when I noticed the blonde maiden and the bald-headed lord come in front, giving small glances of recognition to the couple on the ground. This sight was in my vision as the horizon took on a hue of royal blue and I saw the yellow peaking off from the east. I moved closer to the tree, coming beside these four, wonderful creatures; all eyes turned to the glowing, radiant sky, though all would occasionally steal glances at their unlikely companions._

_The orange orb made his first, grand appearance and slowly became higher and brighter. Catti-brie leaned closer into Drizzt's shoulder, savoring his warmth as she savored this beauty. Innovindil's face was locked in a smile that spoke nothing but complete bliss. Drizzt, as he has since his first day on the Surface, took in the rising sun, his lavender eyes squinting and brimming with tears with his natural sensitivity to the light, though he was obviously a happy man. My intent gaze focused on Jarlaxle to see his own reaction and what I witnessed warmed my heart; he did not flinch away from the light as he first did during our first sunrise together. He did avert his gaze, though I could see he was still looking forward through squinted eyes, a smile on his face. He had indeed embraced the Surface world after all._

_I let my own gaze turn to the beautiful sun, keeping the four in my vision; the four drastically different individuals united by love and fate this Midsummer's Eve. They began the night rivals, and by sunrise they all sat together as friends and more. My heart glowed with the warmth of this image, a small tear coming down my face, though I registered nothing else but this divine moment; one of the greatest I had ever witnessed in my long life._

_I wanted to simply capture this moment forever; lock the image away in a stone or a bottle and leave this as my heart's only vision, but I knew that was not to be. It was sunrise; a new moment and a new beginning in the lives of four individuals: the lively elven maiden whose passion flowed like a river, yet glowed radiant like the ocean under a bright, full moon; the human woman, a passionate warrior set like the stone in which her dwarven family mad their craft, yet she was also the soil on which new, beautiful things were grown; the young drow who still floated through the world in search for himself, yet a creature of great peace and wisdom whose mere presence could be a cooling wind; and the fiery, passionate dark elf who can only be a force to be understood instead of quenched or harnessed. Looking on was the servant of the spirit, an old man who finally knew a great peace._

_Then came the words that officially ended the evening._

"_Well, I should get back to my partner lest he do more damage than he probably has already," Jarlaxle said, words I knew were coming, yet wrenched my heart nonetheless._

"_I would like to see that map of yours again," I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. "Then we will go back to my tent, retrieve your items, and I will teleport you back to Cormyr."_

_Jarlaxle gave me a warm smile and nodded._

_I stood aside and tried to hold back tears as Jarlaxle reached his hand down to Drizzt and clasped his forearm, both exchanging friendly words of parting in their home tongue. Then Catti-brie came to her feet, gave him one silent look of deferring affection, and then leaned in, kissing him briefly on the lips before pulling back. They said casual goodbyes, yet their looks communicated so much more between them. Innovindil came up to him and gave him a warm embrace. My emotions did not allow me to understand exactly what they were saying to each other, yet I did see their lips brush for a brief second as I did hear one thing:_

"_If you're not here next Midsummer," Innovindil whispered in his ear, "I'm hunting you down and dragging you back."_

_I let out a chuckle that warmed my heart. Jarlaxle smiled, pulled back, and gave her a grand bow. He gave the three one last, lingering look before turning to me and I knew this was the beginning of the end. I nodded, gave a few parting words to the company, then walked in the direction of my tent with Jarlaxle following close behind. _

_I made a brief stop in my tent to collect the box as well as a special piece of blue quartz that would come in handy in Cormyr, my mind a complete blank. I then lead Jarlaxle away from the village, looking back occasionally to see him give one last, lingering look at Moonwood before continuing on. I allowed him his moment, though I could tell he was anxious to return to where he had left before._

_We walked a little further into the woods, none of us saying a word as we came to a small outcropping of rock where I stopped and faced him. I then grabbed his shoulders gently, said the words of power, and felt my body become immaterial for a second, then my consciousness returned to another wood, Jarlaxle in front of me. I immediately knew this was where he wanted me to go since I clearly felt the presence of the Mythal and the growing void of magic that became complete the further we walked. _

_Jarlaxle told me his destination was near. I stopped, faced him, and held out the box, which Jarlaxle opened with a smile, drawing out a grand, purple hat with a large plum and placing it on his head. He then took out a bright, rainbow cape that turned black the second it touched his hands and put it on. Then he removed a red, jeweled eye patch and placed it over one eye, giving me a brief explanation that it protected him from mind intrusions (though pixie arrows must have been to powerful for this ward). One by one he pulled out a set of gold bracers, then a multitude of jewels. I told him the pixies still claimed some, but he did not seem too bothered. He was happy to see a small, silver whistle in the box._

"_If this is even blown once," Jarlaxle said, placing the whistle back in his belt, "it summons a dangerous creature."_

"_What does it summon?" I asked, my voice still slightly cracking from nerves over this final moment._

"_My lieutenant," he said with a smile, "a rather bad tempered psionic."_

"_Well it was a good thing we could find it," I said, taking a lingering look at my old lover in his new attire._

_I remember when I first met him wearing chain armor bearing the emblem of the spider, his long, flowing hair tied back into a small helm. Now he was dressed in the attire of a wealthy businessman, his head completely bare save for that magnificent hat. Jarlaxle Baenre looked absolutely wonderful, the embodiment of one who had found his freedom and lived to flaunt it._

_I could not see my own face at the time, but Jarlaxle's expression told me I must have looked sad_

"_I wish to meet with your partner," I said, pulling the blue stone from by pouch, "I can channel healing energy through this that will resist the dead magic zone."_

"_I will warn you…" he began._

"_Master Entreri is no threat to me," I said firmly._

_He looked at me thoughtfully for a second, and then smiled before turning around and continuing on through the wood. I followed closely behind, savoring the beauty of the woods and the absolute beauty of Jarlaxle's form. _

_I was broken by my reverie by a sudden movement and the loud thwack against the tree Jarlaxle had walked past, missing his head by barely in inch. My vision then caught a well-forged dagger with an emerald in the hilt sticking from the bark and I knew whose path we had just crossed._

"_Where in the Nine Flaming Hells have you been?" a husky voice called from the wood in a calm, yet tense tone._

_The next sound positively warmed my heart._

"_Master Jarlaxle, we were so worried!" a female voice called. _

_I looked from behind the tree to see a small, simply constructed cottage with an elderly human woman slowly coming towards us. Standing beside the house next to a woodpile was who I assumed was Artemis Entreri. For some reason, I was surprised by his rather slight stature, though he had an aura of menacing control. Then I saw him leaning heavily on a wooden staff, a small wood axe in the other hand and a small pile of freshly chopped wood by his bare, calloused feet, though the wood did look a bit more splintered as if they had been chopped at an angry pace. Standing next to him was a sight that I found surprising, yet rather amusing: a small bugbear dressed in tattered blue overalls stood next to him scratching his backside and giving me a huge grin._

"_An elfy, momsy!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down and pointing at me._

_I merely laughed for there was only innocence in a face I had commonly associated with maliciousness; a sight that spoke many important volumes in my mind._

_Two more small bugbears ran towards us from the woods, smiles on their furry faces as if they were very glad to see us. Master Entreri then threw down the hatchet and hobbled towards us with a rather sour expression, giving me a sneer and looking me up and down before turning his attention back to his partner._

"_All apologies," Jarlaxle said with a small bow, though I could see the grin still firmly planted on his face. "When I left, I did manage to find that site the sisters told us of, though I did find a bit of misadventure. It is a rather long tale and I will oblige you with the full details at a more appropriate time. However, my path did cross with this fine gentleman here." Jarlaxle then motioned towards me. "Artemis Entreri, meet Nialian Springleaf; an old acquaintance of mine who also happens to be a skilled cleric with a way to heal your leg despite the void of magic."_

_I bowed low and Entreri greeted me with a curt nod, his scowl still in place as he came forward and yanked the dagger from the tree, making a great show of the fine blade before sheathing it in a small scabbard at his hip._

"_Well met, Master Entreri," I said. "I can indeed bypass the magical void and heal your leg. If you wouldn't mind having a seat on that small mound over there."_

_Entreri looked back at thee small patch of grass by the tree to which I referred, gave me a suspicious glare, and came to a sit with the aid of his companion. I managed to lean down and bring the blue stone from my belt. Entreri rolled up his pant leg and I could see the ankle was significantly swollen. I rubbed the stone over the skin and began a prayer to Corellon. I felt the void of magic still around me, but the energy traveled through the stone and into the human's ankle in a bright blue light. Soon, the swelling completely subsided and I heard my ward give a long sigh. Entreri flexed his ankle with no difficulty and gradually came to his feet, taking a few cautionary steps before moving walking normally. I swore I saw a look of relief come over his face as the elder lady and the three bugbears clapped and cheered. Jarlaxle politely joined in the applause, his grin widening. _

_Entreri then stopped and looked at me, his gaze still sour, yet lacking much of the venom he showed me before._

"_I thank you," he said with a stiff nod. "Do you expect payment for your services?"_

"_No, consider this a courtesy," I said, meeting his gaze with a small smile. "Many rewards await you in this wood and I would hate for you to miss out for so simple a reason."_

"_You are too generous," Entreri replied coldly, though I merely responded with a smile._

"_You are indeed," the maid said to me, "please stay and accept out hospitality, Lord Springleaf."_

"_As much as I would love to stay," I said with a small nod, "I have other matters that require my attendance, so I regretfully decline. Master Entreri, it was a pleasure meeting you, you as well mistress and may Corellon bless you and your wards."_

_The elder lady gave a bow and the little creatures smiled and waved at me while Master Entreri gave me another nod._

"_A short word before you go," Jarlaxle said, taking my arm and leading me away._

_I took one last look at the assassin and his friendly caregivers and turned away, Jarlaxle leading me a few feet away behind a small patch of trees. He the faced me in silence for a second before grabbing my shoulders and kissing me passionately. My hands came to his shoulders and I returned the kiss with gusto. His lips were soft and inviting, his embrace warm, and I knew I was in the presence of a soul who would never forget our moment together. I stood and savored every second of this wonderful kiss, pulling him in closer and feeling Jarlaxle Baenre in my arms again. It was a moment I would never forget, though I knew it was for but a moment in time; a time I knew had appropriately ended as we both pulled back. I then gazed at the man he had become; the grand hat and the eye patch made him look like a king while his bald head accentuated his handsome features. It was now when I knew he had indeed grown to become his own man._

_We parted without a word, though words were not needed. Our soft gazes communicated so much, and I felt a peace I had not known in a very long time. I gave Jarlaxle a low bow, and he responded by sweeping his hat from his head and genuflecting. He then replaced his hat and we exchanged one long, understanding glance as we turned from each other and walked in separate directions. I heard him return to the group as I walked slowly away._

"_I do have to admire how relaxed Master Artemis stayed while you were gone," I heard the maid say through the trees. "Why he was sleeping like a baby by the time dinner was over. I don't think he woke until just an hour ago."_

_I paused to make sure the next sound wasn't a scream, though instead I heard Entreri's low grumble to his partner, something along the lines of:_

"_You're an ass, you know that?"_

_I allowed myself a muted chuckle as I continued through the woods, then clasped the stone and felt its warm glow encompass my body as my vision went from Cormyr to back to Moonwood. A short walk later I was back to my tent and immediately crashing on my cot for a nice, overdue Reverie, dreaming of many wonderful times and fully feeling the peace of the heart that continues with me through this day._

_I woke and decided to take a small walk though the woods, savoring the warmth of the season. It was here when I saw Drizzt and Catti-brie taking their own stroll though the wood. I kept myself concealed as I watched this wonderful scene. Drizzt was taking full, yet careful steps, though he and his love would occasionally pause and sit down on a nearby stump or fallen tree. His energy was returning quickly and I was rather pleased with how well he was healing. I also savored this beautiful sight, making small comparisons to my own experience. In Drizzt and Catti-brie, I saw complete triumph. _

_Here was Drizzt Do'Urden, a young dark elf who not only escaped the horrors of the Underdark, but also became a champion of goodness; his reputation even making him loved and honored by many around the Realms who see his race as villainous, especially his Surface kin. While Jarlaxle will never truly be able to shake off that taint, Drizzt has followed his own path of goodness. It is also through Drizzt that I remove from myself much guilt about Jarlaxle: Drizzt's path was his own, as was Jarlaxle's and no interference by anyone could have changed that._

_It was also in Drizzt and Catti-brie that I saw the triumph of love; though a love well-earned. It was a love between two people who needed time apart to define themselves, yet in the end came together, bonded by their respect and affection for each other. Will Drizzt Do'Urden and Catti-brie Battlehammer be an everlasting love; a union that will last for the ages, producing many handsome children as caring and mighty as they, or will both paths separate by the continuation of time? One can never know, but at least they are enjoying each other's company for the moment._

_Later that afternoon when the sun had almost set, I gave Drizzt one final examination and ruled that he was healthy enough to return to Mithril Hall. As Innovindil awoke from her own Reverie and readied her fantastic pegasi for the journey, I wrote a note in dwarvish to the attending cleric, whether Stumpet Rakingclaw, Cordio Muffinhead, or both, explaining Drizzt's condition and giving recommendations for dressing the wound, bed rest, and various herbs that would quicken his healing. Less than an hour later, it was time for our group to splinter once more. I wished to go along, but. Alas, I had other matters to attend and my bones simply would not tolerate such a rough journey._

_Innovindil mounted Sunrise, as Catti-brie gave me a long, embrace, giving me greatest thanks for everything I had done. Drizzt gave me a thoughtful look just before embracing me._

"_I cannot thank you enough," he said, a hint of moisture rimming those beautiful, lavender orbs._

"_Just keep your health and recover," I said. "That would be thanks enough."_

_We clasped forearms and I savored one last look at a young man who was merely alive; another young drow I healed on Midsummer's Eve who I could finally give words of grateful parting._

_At last Catti-brie mounted Sunset, helping Drizzt on behind her. Then, both pegasi gave running leaps as both were in the air, their riders giving me final waves before disappearing into the horizon._

_Innovindil returned to Moonwood shortly after dark, mounted on Sunrise while Sunset came to ground behind her, telling me that the couple was now home. Cordio Muffinhead sent his thanks for my note as he soundly escorted Drizzt to his chambers. _

_A month later, Innovindil gave me a farewell and took flight on Sunset for another trip around Faerûn. Our little circle of friends that had gathered on Midsummer's Eve had officially parted, though, as a druid friend of mine was fond of saying: "The circle is open but never broken."_

_I did receive a letter a month ago in Drizzt's handwriting that was signed by both him and Catti-brie, writing from their latest port-of-call in Luskan. Drizzt fully healed and the two traveled to Waterdeep almost the second after Cordio removed his stitches. Since then, they have helped Captain Deudermont capture many dangerous pirates while destroying several ships that had been terrorizing the traders of the Sword Coast. He and Catti-brie are still very much in love and very much partners in every way, though I am still a little curious if either of them occasionally experiment with others. Catti-brie will joke to the other sailors who ask Drizzt how he got that scar on his abdomen that they had a little fight…_

_Innovindil still travels, though she returns to Moonwood frequently to visit and tell tales of many hunting trips with the wemics of the Shaar and how she helped a small colony of halflings in Turmish destroy a small, Black Wyrm that had haunted their people for centuries. She will also come with small souvenirs; various herbs and oils that I could use for medicines and potions. Her last visit was a tenday ago, and I think she is in Lantan from last I heard._

_It was also a tenday ago when I received a letter that made me positively overjoyed: a scroll from Jarlaxle. He and his partner bid peaceful farewells to the maid and her wards and did follow that map towards a small, yet valuable chest of gems abandoned by the sun elves in their Retreat to Evermeet. Jarlaxle and Entreri's draconic employers were most pleased and rewarded them handsomely, before sending them on a shorter mission in Damara, the sisters' homeland. It was, however, the final paragraph of his note that sent many salty drops on the page:_

"_I cannot change what happened three hundred fifty years ago," he wrote, "but I can only hope that we can hold our respect and honor to each other for as long as we have on this earth. That is all I can give and that is all I can expect to receive._

_With my warmest regards,_

_Jarlaxle"_

_I tied a leather cord on that scroll and hung it from the ceiling of my tent; fully putting a large conflict in my life to its final rest._

_It has been four months since Midsummer's Eve. The weather grows colder and the trees, once a brilliant green, now take stunning shades of gold and orange as their leaves gently fall and blanket the ground with color. I feel the change of the seasons deeper in my bones; it is a little harder to wake from each Reverie and my movements are not as free, though this is a change I welcome. I feel I have found a great peace in my life since that fateful night four months ago: an old part of my life was laid to rest while I was allowed to witness four strangers uniting in the most beautiful ways._

_I have sent letters to each, wishing them all well, while they will open their scrolls to find a rune enclosed: the exact same runes I cast Midsummer's Eve that foretold what wonderful moments they would share together. I remembered the exact appearance and emanations of each and every one of them. As for my rune, I keep it in my pouch always and will reach in to feel its peace whenever I feel sad or strained. _

_It is in these times when I will truly realize that I am never alone. In those moments when it seems I am left to my own thoughts, I will always know that there are many people in this world and the next who care for me and are watching over me; for I accept that the next realm will someday be my home. I know not when, though the prospect is one I accept with open arms. I have lived on this earth for exactly eight hundred years; eight hundred years of terror, mourning, heartache, laughter, tears, passion, bliss, and every other unnamable sensation that comes with life._

_It is in these pensive moments when I will think on my friends wherever they may be and recall another, wonderful saying:_

"_Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again."_

-Nialian Springleaf

21 of Uktar, The Year of Wild Magic 1372

Nialian replaced his pen in the well beside him and savored the words he just wrote in his leather bound journal. He gave a long sigh and looked up at the trees surrounding him. The moon was full, taking a bright shade of orange that matched perfectly with the thick blanket of leaves on the ground around him and the tufts of the oaks and maples under which he sat. He breathed in the cool, sweet air that bore the tinge of a distant campfire and felt completely, blissfully at peace.

The ink began to dry, yet Nialian never took his eyes from his flowing script; for all the words that flowed from his frail hand were the deepest words of his heart and all that was left was beautiful quiet. At last, he gently closed the book, placing it beside him with a shaking hand as he leaned against the maple tree under which he sat, a small tear crawling down his cheek. His lined face then turned up in a bright smile as he gazed at the moon, feeling her energies embrace him warmly. The silver rays passed through him and he felt a bliss he had never known in his entire life. Nialian let his gaze shift to the orange leaves, and then the expanse of sweet trees around him, all bathed in rich, soft moonlight.

Nialian Springleaf's heart then opened, knowing fully that the time had come.

He savored one, lingering gaze at the moon, and then he closed his eyes, letting his muscles relax as he leaned against the maple and sunk into Reverie. His sight was dark at first, and then came the glowing light of so many happy visions: momentous occasions, the faces of those loved and lost, though all of it gradually came to one silver glow as his entire body became one mass of energy that radiated from every part of his being and floated forth.

His vision then faded to his current surroundings, though all the trees glowed with the most beautiful, silver light as everything his soul beheld was made of pure happiness. Nialian looked down at his own form, marveling at its translucence as his legs allowed themselves a sprightly dance around the small clearing. He spun in circles, feeling the winds swirl around him as they picked leaves off the trees and sent them down in one orange and gold shower. He then reached out a glowing hand and allowed one leaf float into his palm and float through as he looked up at the moon with a silvery tear.

"I am ready to come home now," Nialian said through a happy sob, looking up at the sky and feeling Corellon Larethian's smile upon him.

He closed his eyes and felt his body fade from the earth. The silvery glow faded, leaving a small grove of trees blanketed in golden leaves and the still, smiling form of a servant of the spirit who found his peace at last.

THE END

Author's Note: "Midsummer" is the second fanfic I have worked on and the form you see today is not the original concept. "Midsummer" is the result of many different ideas I had about pairings involving many characters that I decided to include in one story. I have read many adult oriented fics and really wanted to experiment with one of my own, yet one that I felt was more descriptive and focusing on plot while adding a sense of passion and eroticism without making it cheap. I also found it only natural to include unflinching references to love between people of the same gender, which, in my absolute belief and experience, is no different from love between people of different genders. I found it natural that Catti-brie might want to experiment with her sexuality, and Jarlaxle and Innovindil, who have lived for hundreds of years and come from sexually free societies, bisexuality would be normal for them.

I did get a lot of inspiration from William Shakespeare's play _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, which describes the romantic misadventures of four mortals amid the trees of a fairy's realm. The beautiful descriptions of nature were a huge influence, adding to the fact that most of the main characters in this setting _were_ actually elves. In addition, I also drew on the _American Pie_ movies, with their modern day depiction of bawdy humor and romantic misadventure. Another big influence was director Alfonso Cuaron's stunning film version of Charles Dickens' book _Great Expectations_, which portrayed a classic romance in honest terms. Many of the scenes were very passionate without showing anything, leaving more the suggestion of what was going on; a theme which I carried out in this story. I also listened to the albums "The Distance to Here" by Live and "Little Earthquakes" by Tori Amos constantly as inspiration, both dealing with the themes of love and loss coming with a deeper understanding about oneself.

I will admit drawing much influence from my own spiritual traditions. I am a practicing Wiccan and many of the ancient traditions I draw upon for spirituality are reflected in the _Forgotten Realms_ universe, not just the holiday of Midsummer, but all the races and many of the magical powers have obvious roots in mythology. I felt it was only natural to include references to moon lore, the Five Elements, divination through runestones, and a few common phrases such as the two I included in this chapter. Adding to this was the irony that I did write one chapter during the actual holiday of Midsummer, also known as the Summer Solstice, which did fall on the full moon this year.

I would like to give a huge thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed "Midsummer" on Lavender Eyes and I also greatly appreciate the additional input I received from WitchWolf, euphorbic, WhiteRose Karama, and Suzanne, who have all given me so many ideas.

As "Midsummer" draws to a close, so does summer itself and the changing season brings new hope. Once again my thanks to all and, to give the most popular greeting among those of my religion:

Blessed Be


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